Harry Potter and Gryffindor's Secret
by Lin-z1
Summary: NEW UPDATE AFTER YEAR-LONG HIATUS!*Chapter 18!!* 5th year fic, filled with all you could want in a fic! Humor, angst, & adventure abound. Harry, Sirius (not slash), cunning plans ala Voldemort, a mysterious illness, and Quidditch coming soon! :)
1. Sirius' Surprise

Harry Potter and Gryffindor's Secret  
  
Chapter 1: Sirius' Surprise  
  
By: Lin-z  
  
**  
  
Peter Pettigrew looked up, startled. He had been hard at work, pouring over the hundreds of dusty volumes that were Voldemort's library. His searching had been interrupted by a small clinking noise, almost as though something had fallen on the cold cement floor. His watery black eyes scanned the racks of books, trying to decipher what had made the noise. He had thought he was alone. then again, maybe he just dropped something. He looked down at the floor beside his great mahogany desk, where he found the lid to his inkwell. 'Maybe I just bumped it off,' he thought. He reached down, picked it up, and placed it somewhere where he wouldn't accidentally knock it off again. He sighed softly and bent over the desk, once again lost within the crackled yellow pages.  
  
The book he was studying was about ancient potions. It was really very tedious and dull, but Pettigrew was fearful of his master's terrible temper, and it was that thought that kept him going. Although he was no stranger to the Cruciatus curse, he was not very fond of it. When Voldemort had told him to find the Nullificus Draught, he had said yes and ran down here as fast as his short, chubby legs would carry him. He knew very little of the draught, only that it was very powerful dark magic. One of the earlier books he had discovered had shed a little more light on the subject, but he doubted it was what Voldemort needed to know. The book had told him that the Nullificus Draught was a potion discovered by Salazar Slytherin, back in 1090. When ingested, it rendered the drinker completely devoid of magical powers. Permanently. It was made illegal shortly afterwards, in 1092, and the recipe was confiscated by Godric Gryffindor. When he tried to destroy it, he discovered that Slytherin had placed a charm of indestructibility on it, so he placed it under unknown protective charms to keep anyone else from discovering it. It was forgotten until a few months ago, when Voldemort discovered it in one of Salazar Slytherin's memoirs. Unfortunately for Voldemort, the recipe was not written with the description. Seeing this as a possible route for that detestable Potter's destruction, he had sent Pettigrew to find out all he could about it.  
  
The problem was that he didn't think that any clues as to the potion's whereabouts would be in the dark volumes that Voldemort owned. He supposed that he would just have to tell Voldemort this. He frowned, thinking of his master's fondness and definite skill for torture. 'Maybe,' he thought, 'I could convince him that I could sneak into the library at Hogwarts and find it there.' He shut the book with strengthened resolve, and made to put away his ink and quill when he heard a rustling from the other end of the library. He jerked up, trying desperately to find where the noise had come from. Just as he was about to reach for his wand, a sharp voice yelled, 'Stupefy!,' and he fell back, unconscious.  
  
In the shadows of the dungeon library, a tall, dark figure smiled to himself. He strode forward, to the unconscious body of Peter Pettigrew. 'Filthy rat,' he whispered, looking disdainfully at the fat, balding man lying on the floor. 'Now to get him back,' the man thought for a second, and then, 'Mobilicorpus,' and the still form of Peter Pettigrew rose slowly into the air, where it hung, moving slowly up and down. The man moved his wand, and Pettigrew followed, as though millions of invisible ropes were connecting the wand to the unconscious Pettigrew. The man smiled- it was always amusing to use this spell, the way the bodies hung grotesquely, obeying the directions of the commander's wand. He moved away from the desk, leading Pettigrew to an open space in the library. With a small *pop*, the two disappeared.  
  
**meanwhile**  
  
Dumbledore looked out at the group assembled before him in his spacious office. Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, who were conversing quietly with Arabella Figg and Mundungus Fletcher, occupied the sofa by the window. Arabella and Mundungus were sitting in two strait-backed chairs facing them, but in such a way that they could easily turn around and face Dumbledore when he began to speak. He had told Sirius, at the end of last term, to find these two and bring them together to aide in the immanent fight against Voldemort and his followers. The group would be powerful allies, and he needed them together. Also sitting in his office was Minerva McGonagall. She was sitting quietly, off from the group, not really paying attention to anyone else in the office. She stared out the window, seemingly anxious for someone or something to appear. Dumbledore knew she was worried about her fellow Professor, Severus Snape. Severus had left early that morning at the call of Lord Voldemort. Snape had turned spy in the days right before Voldemort's downfall, and was back at his old job, trying to keep Dumbledore informed of the dark lord's movements. He had been gone over six hours now, and, truth be told, even Dumbledore was feeling the beginnings of worry.  
  
Minerva sighed softly.  
  
'I'm sure he's just fine, Minerva,' Dumbledore spoke, breaking her reverie, and correctly interpreting her worried expression. 'Voldemort is strong, but Severus can hold his own, and I'm sure he'll be back very soon.'  
  
Minerva turned, amazed at how the kindly old man before her seemed to be able to read minds, and nodded, giving him a wan smile. 'I know,' she replied, 'I just wish he would get back soon.' Dumbledore nodded his assent, and Minerva turned back to the window.  
  
At the sound of footsteps on the stairs outside Albus Dumbledore's office, all voices stopped. Everyone turned to the door, waiting to see who would enter. The footsteps stopped, the door opened, and a tall, dark robed man entered the office. As he walked forward, another figure appeared, hanging, apparently lifeless, a short distance from the man's outstretched wand. The man reached up, and pulled down his own hood, revealing the oily black hair, hooked nose, and sallow complexion of Severus Snape.  
  
He smiled evilly and walked to the centre of the office, still the focal point of all that were in the room. The still bouncing form of Peter Pettigrew followed him, but as his hood was still up over his head, none of the people in Dumbledore's office knew who it was. 'Look at who I found,' Severus said, lowering Peter's hood. All six of the people in Dumbledore's office stood, jaws dropped, obviously shocked at whom they saw suspended before them.  
  
Sirius Black jumped and let out an almighty whoop as he recognised Peter Pettigrew. 


	2. The Invitation

Harry Potter and Gryffindor's Secret

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Harry Potter and Gryffindor's Secret

Chapter 2: The Invitation

By: Lin-z

A/n: Muchas gracias a cada quien que hizo una reseña del primer capitulo!! (Thanks a lot to everyone who reviewed the first chapter…) Ü Hopefully this chapter will answer a few questions… as with all stories here at ffn, I own none of the Harry Potter characters. J.K. Rowling does. With that said… **Read on and review**!

From the month of September until the month of June, the Dursleys were the most normal, ordinary people you could care to meet. They had a nice, tidy house in an ordinary suburban neighbourhood. Mrs Petunia Dursley was a skinny, nosy, horse-necked housewife (the neck was dead useful for spying on the neighbours), and Mr Vernon Dursley, her husband, was a large, ruddy-faced businessman, who worked for a large, normal company. Their son, Dudley, was quite fat, but still not what one would call out of the ordinary. He went to an expensive boarding school in England, and his parents spoilt him shamelessly. Yes, at one time they had prided themselves on _just_ how perfectly normal they were. 

That is, until Harry Potter showed up on their doorstep one night in October. The bane of their conventional existence manifested itself in the form of a small, one-year-old orphan with jet-black hair, bright green eyes, and an unusual, lightning-bolt-shaped scar on his forehead. The Dursleys knew about Harry's 'abnormality,' as they called it, but it was precisely this difference that made them so mad. Harry was a wizard. His father, James Potter, had been a wizard, and his mother, Lily Evans Potter (and Petunia Evans Dursley's sister), had been a witch. Which is why, upon their deaths, Harry was sent to live with his only surviving relations, the Dursleys. For eleven long years they tried everything they could to 'squash' the magic out of him, but all their efforts were to no avail. On his eleventh birthday, an envoy from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry came to introduce Harry to the magical world, in which he had and would continue to play an integral part.

At the moment, however, he was interrupting their otherwise conforming lifestyles by mowing their lawn. The Dursley's despised Harry, and went out of their way to make sure his life with them was as unpleasant as humanly possible. Shortly before his eleventh birthday, they had given him an upgrade from a cupboard under the stairs to a small room upstairs, but that was about as generous as they were. So, as Harry begrudgingly pushed the lawnmower to and fro across the Dursley's already painstakingly manicured lawn, he thought about how much longer he had to wait until September the first, when he would take the Hogwarts Express back to school.

Harry looked out across the lawn, realising, with a smile, that he was just about done. He wiped the perspiration from his forehead and started up again, renewed at the idea of being able to stop soon. It was dead hot outside, and Harry could feel a nasty sunburn forming on his bare back. This was the second time that week that he had been made to mow the lawn, and it was only Thursday. It wasn't as though Dursley's had quick-growing grass, they just liked to get him out of the house as much as possible. With one final push across the lawn, Harry let go of the mower, letting the engine roll to a stop. He heaved it back to the garden shed, and then made his way to a shady oak tree by the fence. He sat down wearily and took a deep breath, savouring the coolness that the shade of the tree provided. It felt so wonderful to finally be able to sit back and relax a bit! He put his head back against the rough bark of the trunk and closed his eyes, knowing that as soon as he went back inside his aunt would have some other ridiculous chore for him. He sat forward a bit and rubbed the kinks out of his back before lifting himself from the ground and trudging back to the house for a glass of cold water.

Just as he had expected, Aunt Petunia was sitting at the kitchen table. She was leaning over the table, holding a pair of black binoculars to her beady little eyes, trying as hard as she could to see into the next-door neighbour's window. As Harry went about preparing a glass of water, Petunia spoke. 

'Are you done mowing the lawn, boy?' 

Harry looked up to see her sneering at him. 'Yes, I've just finished,' he replied politely. 

'Good then, you can press Vernon's shirts now…. Mind you don't mess them up! ' She said, turning back to the window. 

He sighed quietly, glad that, at least he hadn't been made to wash Dudley's over-large knickers by hand again. That was an experience that he would be quite glad to forget, but that he doubted he could. It made him shiver just to think of it! He downed the last of his water and went upstairs to press his uncle's dress shirts.

At last it was night-time. Vernon's shirts were all nicely pressed, the lawn was perfect, and Harry had just finished his supper. Dinner had been relatively uneventful. Dudley had shovelled as much food as humanly possible into his quivering jaw, Uncle Vernon had droned on and on about drills and things that made him angry, and Aunt Petunia had sat and listened quietly, still craning her neck to see what the Mrs Next-door was serving for _her_ supper, all ignoring Harry, who was eating quietly not caring what his relatives were doing. 

'May I be excused?' he asked, putting down his fork. 

'What? Oh, yes, fine, go,' Uncle Vernon said, not looking up from his own, still full, plate. 

Harry pushed his chair back and climbed the stairs, flopping down onto his bed. Looking around his room, he was startled to see a sleek brown owl standing beside Hedwig's cage. He got up and walked over to it, noting a small box with the envelope. He untied both from the owl's leg, which then ruffled its feathers importantly and flew off through the open window. 

When he looked closer at the envelope, he noticed the Hogwarts insignia and thought it strange that he would get a letter from his school so early in the summer. Usually the supply list came in August, not mid July. He broke the seal, and pulled out a length of parchment upon which was a letter to Harry.

Dear Mr Harry Potter:

Your presence is requested at a meeting taking place in my office, tomorrow morning at precisely 11.00 AM. It is very important that you be there. In the box with this letter you will find a portkey that will transport you to a spot near the lake at exactly 10.30. The gargoyle's password is 'mars bars.' Please don't forget.

Thank you,

Albus Dumbledore, headmaster.

Harry folded up the letter, placed it back in the envelope, and laid the whole upon his desk. He then proceeded to open the small box that had come with the letter. Inside, he found a shoe-string. He placed the lid back on the box, and set it back on his desktop. All the while he was getting ready for bed, thoughts of why Professor Dumbledore would want to see him in his office in the middle of summer holiday were running through his head. 'What could I have possibly done now?' he thought to himself. Maybe Dumbledore was going to let him go to the home of his best friend, Ron Weasley, for the rest of the summer. 'But why, then, would he need to see me in his office?' Nothing Harry thought of seemed to make any sense. Harry got into bed and drifted off slowly, still curious as to why Dumbledore wanted _him_ at any summer meetings.

So …. What do you think? Good? Bad? Tell me! Please don't forget to write a review! They definitely encourage quicker posts!

Lin-z


	3. The Meeting

Harry Potter and Gryffindor's Secret

**Harry Potter and Gryffindor's Secret**

**Chapter 3: The Meeting**

**By: Lin-z**

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**A/N: **This chapter turned out rather longer than I had intended. I definitely enjoyed writing it, and I hope that you will enjoy reading it. Remember-please write a review at the end! They inspire me to post more of this story!!

I want to personally thank all of my 7 current reviewers: if you didn't review or if you could care less if you're thanked, than you can scroll down and get right to the story. Right then, here goes:

Brianna, Bookworm, James Bond, Juliana Edwards, and LS: Thanks so much for your reviews! I hope you enjoy the following chapters, if you are still reading them!

Eowynstar and Malena: Hmm, let's see if I can answer some of your questions: first of all, Eowynstar, we will find out what happened to Pettigrew in this chapter. This does in deed take place following GoF, and I think most of your questions have been answered. Malena: It's called the undecided/unknown title because I have yet to think of a title that doesn't sound utterly ridiculous. Help!!! (Oh, and I loved both of your stories! Can't wait for future chapters…) And now, on with the story… Here goes!

**Disclaimer:** I own none of these delightful characters… All I own is a Mars Bar and the plot… oh well! Anyhow…

****

Harry awoke early the next morning, before any of the Dursley's. He reached out to his bedside table, groping blindly for his glasses. He knew he had placed them there last night! After succeeding only to knock his alarm clock to the ground, he leaned over the edge of his bed, searching the floor near him. He closed his hand around the frames of his round, black glasses, and he brought them to his face, allowing his room to slide into focus. He picked his clock from the ground, and set it back upon the table, finally taking note of the time. The bright red numbers glared harshly at him, as if taunting him for waking up at such an obscene hour. 3.40 A.M. Three - bloody - forty A.M., he thought to himself. He grumbled and lay back down, cursing the nightmares that had been plaguing him since last month. He could never remember them, but they left him feeling scared and completely unsafe. 

Harry got up and made his way over to the window, pulling aside the drawings so that he could look out over the quiet street. Not a single thing could be seen moving below him. He knew he was being silly, worrying like this, but he couldn't help it! "That dream is really doing something to me," he thought. He walked back over to his bed and collapsed on it, exhausted. He couldn't remember how long it had been since he'd had a proper night's sleep. Finally, his body won out over his mind, and he sank away into a deep and thankfully dreamless sleep.

By the time he woke again it was light outside, the sunlight streaming through the slit in the window dressing and falling in innocent strips across his bed. The alarm clock now read 7.15 A.M., and Harry thought it appropriate to get up. He stretched and walked over to his wardrobe, removing clean clothes before moving off to the washroom to take a shower. He was anticipating today, which is something he rarely did while at the Dursley's. He was going to Hogwarts today, and even though it was only a day trip, at least he wouldn't have to do any stupid chores today. His back was still burned from yesterday, and he didn't think he could take another day out in the sunshine so soon. 

Breakfast was an uneventful affair, and afterwards Harry approached his aunt about needing to leave later that morning. 

'Aunt Petunia, I need to leave today at half past ten,' he proclaimed. 

His aunt looked up from her romance novel, quite angered at having been interrupted. 'You know the rules, boy,' she spat, 'not until each and every one of your chores is done are you permitted to leave this house.' At this point, Petunia stuck her nose back in the book, suggesting that this conversation was over.

'But Aunt Petunia, this is _really_ important! The headmaster from my… erm… school has asked me to meet with him, and I can't miss it!!' Harry pleaded with his aunt, who kept her eyes glued to her book. 

'I've told you not to. If I find that you decide to go, despite my orders, then you shall have double- no, triple your normal workload when you get back.' Satisfied, Harry left his aunt on the couch and walked to the back of the house. He could deal with extra chores; this meeting was important. 

He entered the living room to see his cousin, Dudley, sprawled out over the couch, his entire attention riveted to the telly. It was, really, a nasty sight to behold. His cousin was the size of a small whale, the diet of the previous year having had seemingly no effect upon his substantial girth. He shook his head disgustedly and headed up the back stairs, which were right around the corner from the family room.

Harry entered his room and shut the door behind him. It was only a few minutes prior to half past ten, so Harry reached his desk and removed the shoestring from the small box it had arrived in. It was long, white, and relatively clean. He sat down on the edge of his bed, staring at the alarm clock. The current time was 10.29. 

Harry had one minute…. Thirty seconds…. Ten seconds…. Three…. Two…. One… 

As soon as the bright red 29 flashed to 30, Harry felt a strange tug at his navel, recognising the odd pulling, spinning sensation as the portkey worked, taking him from his bedroom at number four, Privet Drive, to the grassy lawns surrounding Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. His knees buckled as he slammed hard against the ground, and he lay there for a moment before lifting his head to see exactly where he had landed. He was lying on the grass, in close proximity to the lake, and as he looked skyward, he noticed the serious, spectacled eyes of Minerva McGonagall, his head of house. She offered him a hand, which he took, and helped him to his feet. 

'Are you alright, Potter?' she asked, looking him over, noticing the light grass-stains on his trousers. Harry straitened his glasses with one hand, brushing himself off with the other. 

'Yeah, I think so. Thanks,' he replied. 

'Right. Now, if you'll follow me, Headmaster Dumbledore has been expecting you,' she said, leading him to the great front entrance to the castle. 

'Okay,' Harry said, running a tad to catch her up. 'Do you have any idea what this is about?' 

Harry was hoping to have at least some warning as to what he would be facing in the headmaster's office, but it appeared that either McGonagall didn't know or was not telling, as all Harry got in the way of a response was, 'You'll find out soon enough, to be sure.' 

Harry mumbled a bit at that, then started as he realised that they had reached the great stone gargoyle that guarded the secret entrance to Dumbledore's office. 

McGonagall turned to him. 'I must now take my leave. The headmaster is expecting you. I trust you know the password?' 

Harry nodded, and with that, his professor spun on her heel and took off in the opposite direction, apparently going to her own office. Harry faced the gargoyle with a bit of apprehension before muttering 'Mars bars,' and watched as the gargoyle sprang to life and jumped aside, allowing Harry to ascend the moving staircase behind the wall. 

At the top of the staircase, the steps stopped moving and Harry rapped gently at the door. It opened slowly, and Harry was shocked to see the face of his old Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Remus Lupin, looking out at him from the small crack. Lupin smiled broadly, and called Dumbledore to the door. 

'Hello, Harry, and how have you been?' Lupin asked, opening the door enough that Harry could see Albus Dumbledore as well, but nothing beyond the two of them. 

'I'm fine, how are you, professor?' he replied.

Lupin waved him off, 'Please, Harry, I'm not your teacher now, so you may call me Remus.' Harry nodded as Dumbledore addressed him. 

'Welcome to my office, Harry! I trust you have had a pleasant summer?' 

'Right,' Harry replied sarcastically. Dumbledore, however, did not seem to acknowledge the sarcasm. 'You wanted to see me?' He asked timidly. 

'As ever, you are not one to be distracted…' Dumbledore mused. 'Good, then. Harry, we've got a bit of a surprise for you today…'

Across the office, hidden from Harry's view, Sirius Black tried desperately to remain in his seat. He literally could not wait to see the look on his godson's face! He was so excited that it was all he could do to keep himself from jumping from his seat and throwing himself at Harry, spoiling Dumbledore's and Remus' surprise.

Sirius smiled as he heard Harry practically shout 'What is it!?!' at Remus and Albus. He was so like James, quite apart from looking almost exactly the same. Sirius stood up, and Dumbledore and Lupin stepped to the sides, allowing Harry to see into Dumbledore's office, and giving him a clear view of Sirius. 

'SIRIUS!' Harry yelled loudly, throwing himself at his godfather, who was grinning madly and struggling to stay standing. 

'Hiya, Harry!' Sirius exclaimed. After a few moments they pulled apart, and for the first time in a month, got a good look at the other. Harry noticed that Sirius was looking much happier and healthier. His eyes had lost that dark, hunted look that they had retained even as he had seen him in the Hospital Wing at the end of the third task. He had filled out a bit, and though he was still fit, he wasn't emaciated as he had been in Harry's third year. 

Sirius noticed that Harry didn't look quite so good. His eyes were dark, as though he hadn't had much sleep of late. He also noticed that, while Harry had always been thin, he looked much too thin for a boy of almost 15. "A few weeks at my place and we'll fix that right up," he thought to himself. 

Harry broke the silence. 'So why are you here?' he blushed, then added, 'erm, I mean, it's great to see you! How have you been?' 

Sirius' grin became even wider, if that was possible, at Harry's obvious embarrassment at his brash question. 'It's nice to see you too, kid! I've been doing quite well,' he replied, and turning to Remus and Albus, added, 'We've got quite a surprise for you today, haven't we, chaps?' 

'Aye, that we have,' Dumbledore said happily as he made his way back to the chair behind his desk, taking a seat. 'Why don't you all take seats and you can share your secret, Sirius,' he said, waving his wand around airily as he conjured a few extra chairs for his guests. They all sat down, Remus on one end, Sirius in the middle, and Harry on Sirius' other side.

Harry looked expectantly at Sirius, as his godfather began to speak. 'Harry, remember at the end of your third year? On the way back from the Shrieking Shack I asked you if you would like to move in with me as soon as my name was cleared?' 

Harry stared at Sirius with an utterly shocked expression. A few seconds later, 'Y-you don't mean…' he trailed off, not believing what he was hearing. 

Sirius was in his element. He looked at Harry with a solemn expression. 'I do mean.' He said, no longer able to contain the monstrous smile that now spread across his face. Harry's face cracked as he, too, broke into a face-encompassing smile. 

'Of course!! I mean, I'd absolutely love to, but… well…,' he stammered, his smile fading as he realised, that, as far as he knew, Sirius was still a wanted man, and it wasn't possible for him to move in with his godfather. 

Sirius continued to smile, thoroughly enjoying the mental game he was playing with Harry. He pulled a roll of parchment from a pocket in the front of his robes and handed it to his godson. 

Harry took the parchment somewhat apprehensively, and began to unroll it. As he read what was written there, his bright green eyes widened in disbelief and surprise. It hardly seemed real; the words he was reading were too good to be true:

I, Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic for the great country of Britain, do hereby order this pardon for one Sirius Black. The Ministry of Magic acknowledges that Mr Black was imprisoned without trial, in direct violation of article 15374 - g of the Magical Order, and extends its most humble apologies. Upon the apprehension and extensive questioning of one Peter Pettigrew, it has been found that Mr Black is guilty of none of the charges formerly brought against him, and as his only crime now is absconding from the prison where he was wrongfully held, we release him with his wand and all confiscated property. We also offer the sum of 1.000.000 Galleons as recompense for the twelve year term of his imprisonment.

Signed,

Cornelius M. Fudge

Minister for Magic

Harry looked up at his godfather, hardly hoping to believe that what he was reading was true, but hoping with all his being that it was. 

'Is this…' he didn't finish his sentence, he was staring at Sirius.

'Yup. I'm a free man, Harry.' He said, his voice cracking. 

Harry and Sirius both got up from their chairs, embracing once more. Neither wizard cared that they were being watched, they were too caught up in their own happiness. Albus and Remus watched them, amused.

As Dumbledore began to speak, the two returned to their respective seats and watched him. 'Harry, would you like to know how this came to be?' Harry nodded wordlessly, and Dumbledore began to speak, telling him of how Snape had captured Peter Pettigrew Thursday last, in Voldemort's own private library. Harry listened intently, retaining his silence until he was sure Dumbledore was finished.

'So, then, what's become of Pettigrew?' He asked. 

Dumbledore looked to Remus, silently asking him to explain this next part to Harry. 

'Well,' Remus began, 'After Snape brought him back here, we placed an anti-transformation charm on him, to keep him from returning to his rat form and escape our grasp once more. We then brought him to the ministry, where he was questioned extensively, under the influence of Veritaserum, of course. Not only was he found guilty of betraying Lily and James to the dark lord, he was also convicted of killing innocent muggles, faking his own death, and, well, bringing Voldemort back to power. Directly after questioning the Dementors administered the Kiss, and the rest his history.'

Harry nodded. 'I wouldn't say this of many people,' he said darkly, 'but that revolting piece of slime _really_ deserved it.' 

The others agreed, although somewhat startled by Harry's unusually dark manner. 'I suppose I should say thank-you to Professor Snape. Is he around here?' Harry asked, hoping to lighten the mood. When nobody answered him, he became worried. 'What happened to Professor Snape?' he asked. 

Dumbledore took a deep breath and answered Harry's question. 'He's had to go into hiding. As one would expect, Voldemort was none too pleased to find that one of his loyal Death Eaters had been captured. We've had to change Professor Snape's appearance quite drastically, and he will now be going by the name of Mohomri Harcourt. He will be teaching a new subject, and you will not recognise him.' Dumbledore finished, then smiled. 'But surely that is enough for this serious business. Sirius, I'm sure Harry has some things to pack up at his relatives home, perhaps you could help him and then take him home?' 

Sirius' smile returned and he and Harry left Dumbledore's office.

Dumbledore turned to Remus. 'Looks like Harry's luck has taken a turn for the better,' he said. 

Remus nodded. 'It would appear so. I should probably return to Arabella and Mundungus, as there is still much to be done.' Albus and Remus exchanged good byes, and Remus left Dumbledore alone at his desk.

Sirius and Harry made their way back out to the grounds. Sirius finally felt as though he was making good on his promise to James and Lily, and Harry felt that, for the first time in his life, he had a real family. Even though Sirius was not a true blood-relative, he was more like a father to Harry than Uncle Vernon had ever been. For once in his life, he was excited for the rest of the summer.

Well, hope you enjoyed it! Next chapter: Harry moves into Sirius' house, and who knows what else I'll think up between now and then. BE SURE TO **LEAVE A REVIEW!!!** I don't mind even mean ones- if my story is dull, let me know!! Thanks again!

~Lin-z~


	4. A Joke and Then Goodbye

ch4ajokeandthengoodbye

** Harry Potter and Gryffindor's Secret**

**Chapter 4: A Joke and Then Goodbye**

**By: Lin-z**

**Author's Note: **Many gracious thank you's go to my lovely reviewers! I never imagined that people would actually read my stories, let alone like them! (If you like what you read, leave a review! They really make my day, as I'm certain that any of you authors know…) This chapter contains quite a bit more action than the previous. Hopefully it's more fun to read, but I'll let you decide! If you like it, please don't forget to review! Anyhow, I suppose I must get on with the story… very well. Here goes!

**Disclaimer:** I own none of the Harry Potter characters. Rest assured that I am not making a pence, cent, drachma, lira, or centime off of this story. I own a candy bar and a pillow. It would be pointless to sue me. Thanks!

The doorbell rang through number four Privet Drive, barely noticed over the loud bangs and bleeps of Dudley's new computer game. It rang again, and this time it was heard by Mr Vernon Dursley. 

'Dudley! Answer the door!' He shouted, not bothering to look up from the paper he had spread across his lap, half-reading, half-sleeping. He had Friday afternoons off, and the last thing he wanted was to have his splendid afternoon interrupted by some pimply-faced bloke trying to sell him "New and Improved!" this or that. 

'Aw Dad, cantcha make Harry get it?' Dudley pleaded, not wanting to miss one alien-blasting second of his game. 

'All right then. Harry! Answer the door!'

There was no answer.

He yelled again.

Still nothing.

Vernon heaved himself from his easy chair, cursing his lazy nephew all the way to the door. 

'That ruddy boy is going to pay for this,' he growled, coming up on the door. 'I'd say a week back in his cupboard would teach him. Ignoring me… by George he's going to get it for this…' He yanked the door open and was about to yell a hardy 'GO AWAY!' at whomever was standing there, but he was shocked into a momentary silence as he recognised his black-haired, spectacled nephew on his doorstep. 

'What do you think you're playing at now, boy?' he shouted at Harry, 'Get your weak arse back in here and get to work! I'll not have you skiving off, not in my house!' He fully expected Harry to apologise and get to work. He was most definitely not expecting the response Harry gave instead. 

'What if I don't want to?' Harry yelled back! Never, in all the (just about) fourteen years that Harry had lived with them, had he ever yelled back at a direct order from Uncle Vernon.

Harry tried mightily to keep from breaking into explosive peals of laughter right on the spot as he watched his uncle's normally ruddy complexion grow dark purple and splotchy with rage. Harry would have been deeply afraid of his uncle's wrath, had he not known that his godfather was in the bushes, waiting for the perfect moment to jump out and rescue him.

'You'll do as you're told, boy,' Uncle Vernon spat, in sharp, staccato tones, 'or I will personally beat you to within a centimetre of your good-for-nothing life! Now you will get inside, and GET TO WORK!' Uncle Vernon scowled at Harry, both surprised and deeply angered by his nephew's sudden rebellious attitude.

'I don't reckon that would be such a great idea,' came a deep, somewhat hoarse voice from around the corner of the doorway. 

Vernon's eyes widened as a man stepped out from around the porch. The man was tall; he had to be over six feet, with shaggy black hair and pale blue eyes. He wore black leather trousers and a tight black shirt that clearly showed every one of the bulging muscles beneath. The man walked up the steps, punching his hand with a fist in a very threatening manner. 

'You see,' he said, 'I like my godson to be happy. When he's not happy, I'm not happy, and when I'm not happy… Well, I don't think you want to know what I do to people who don't make me happy.' The man sneered menacingly at Vernon Dursley, as if daring the fat older man to try anything smart. 

Vernon was suddenly pale, the dark red splotches in his face fading to his normal red hues, and then to a slightly pink colour. He noticed that his hands were shaking slightly. He shoved them in the pockets of his trousers, not wanting the man on his doorstep to notice this.

So this must be Harry's godfather. Vernon had thought Harry had made him up. An imaginary protector, someone he could threaten the Dursley's with if he so chose. All this time his dratted nephew had actually been telling the truth! He had heard about this man's dastardly deeds: fourteen people, dead in one go, in the middle of the day. Now that he had seen the man, he wouldn't put it past him, either. The man standing before him definitely looked like the type who wouldn't think twice about ending the life of a fellow human being. 

'R-r-right, sir.' Vernon mumbled, stepping aside to let Harry and the man pass. He had every intention of pegging it to the phone as soon as the man's voice was turned. It may have been a year and a half since the last time he had seen the hot-line number on the telly, but he remembered it as clearly as if he had just had the numbers burned to the inside of his eyelids. 

The man sneered at him. 'Don't even think of calling the muggle police. I'll know if you do, and suffice it to say, the results will most definitely _not _be pretty. For you.'

Vernon had no idea what "muggle" meant, but he knew this man was serious. He didn't want to test his luck to see if the man was bluffing- maybe he wouldn't harm Petunia or Dudley as long as he got what he wanted. 

'What is it you want, anyway?' Vernon asked, sounding quite a bit braver than he felt. Harry was sure his uncle would wet himself soon. 

'I want you to promise me that you won't call the police, and that you will leave Harry and me alone whilst we complete our business here.' Sirius said, somehow managing to stifle the laughter building up within. 

'Oh, right, of course, sir,' Vernon was shaking visibly now. 'Just please don't harm my wife or son,' he pleaded. 

Sirius smiled- as if he would want anything with Lily's horse-like sister or her piggy nephew! 

'Good then,' he grumbled, 'now leave us be.' 

Vernon Dursley obligingly turned and half-ran, half-wobbled to the kitchen, where his wife and son were trying to hide beneath the table. 

As soon as the Dursley's were out of earshot, Harry and Sirius exploded, no longer able to contain the mad peals of laughter at seeing Uncle Vernon shaking like a coward at the mere sight of Harry's harmless godfather. Harry was on the floor, clutching his stomach as tears of laughter squeezed from his eyes. Sirius was leaning against the doorway for support, also clutching his stomach as he laughed uncontrollably. 

'Did you see the look on that old goat's face?! That was priceless!' Sirius exclaimed in a low voice, so as not to be heard by the family hiding in the kitchen. 

'Yeah, priceless!' Harry repeated, sitting up and wiping the happy tears from the corners of his eyes.

'Right, well, we should probably get your things and be going. Your room is upstairs then?' Sirius said, calming down. 

'Yeah, let's go,' Harry said, getting up from the floor and heading for the stairs. Sirius followed him up. 

'Never, in all my life have I seen Uncle Vernon so scared! That was great, Sirius, just great!' Harry said, still amused at the sight of his uncle, pale and trembling. 

'Eh, thanks, kid, it's nice to know I've still got some of my old charm.' Sirius did indeed look pleased at the results of their little game. 

He sat upon Harry's bed and watched as his godson began to gather his things, stacking everything neatly in its place within the trunk at the foot of his bed. James had been the type to throw everything in at once, always needing someone to sit on the top of his trunk as he fastened it. He must have inherited his tidiness from his mother, either that, or years of doing chores for his uncle's family. Harry pulled up the loose floorboard and pulled his homework supplies from their hiding place, stacking those in their place. 

'Here, want some of these?' he asked, handing Sirius a box of scones he had pulled from the spot under the loose floorboard. 'Mrs Weasley sent them over a couple of weeks ago, when I found that Dudley was still on his diet.' Sirius took one, and Harry put the box in his trunk. "Mm," he thought, "it's been much too long since I've had these!" 

Harry slammed the lid of his trunk down, successfully showing Sirius that he was done packing. 

'All through!' he said, locking Hedwig's cage and placing it on his bed. 

He stared at his trunk, a frown creasing his brow and distorting the scar on his forehead. 'How ever are we going to get this back to your house?' he asked, trying to think of a way to get a fifty-pound trunk on a flying motorbike. 

Sirius smiled knowingly. 'You may not be able to do magic over the summer, my little man, but I can. Watch this:' he said, waving his wand and muttering the words to a simple shrinking charm. 

'Hey, don't call me little!' Harry sounded offended, but he was smiling despite himself. 

Sirius picked up his trunk, now the size of a walnut, and threw it to Harry. Harry caught it deftly and put it in his pocket. 

'Right-o, mate,' he said, nodding to Sirius. 'I think that's everything!' The two of them got up, Harry grabbing Hedwig's cage, and made their way to the front door. Harry stopped at the door to yell a customary good bye to his family, which, of course, remained unanswered. 

Sirius climbed on his motorbike, sitting forward and allowing Harry enough space to sit on the back, with Hedwig's cage situated on his lap. As soon as all three were secure, Sirius pushed engine silencer and lifted off, releasing the invisibility button when they were above the clouds. Harry watched as the Dursley's home was shrunken by distance and smiled happily, knowing that he would never be forced to spend another summer in that dratted hellhole. 

As Harry soared through the air, he had no idea that he was being watched. In a large and stately room with exquisite green and silver hangings, a tall and slender man stood over an ornately carved gilded cauldron, staring into its shimmering waters. The man watched with serpentine scarlet eyes as a man and a boy flew happily through the air, apparently without a care in the world. He had plans for the boy, though. Plans that involved the boy being tortured beyond even his wildest nightmares, powerless to stop it or even to fight back before he was killed. The boy was insolent, and for that, he would not be afforded the luxury of a quick and painless death. The boy would suffer terribly for the thirteen years that he had been forced to survive without a body of his own. Yes, the boy would get his just rewards.

Dumbledore, no doubt, thought he was being smart. Sending Severus Snape to capture Peter Pettigrew had hardly been a setback for the great Lord Voldemort. Pettigrew was a blithering idiot, and Voldemort was honestly somewhat relieved to have him off of his hands. He had served his purpose when he gave of his flesh, and the Dark Lord now had more than enough capable, brave, and ready wizards at his service to make the lowly Pettigrew worth saving. He would find the recipe for that potion without Pettigrew, and remove that detested boy of his undiscovered power before he discovered it and grew too strong for Voldemort to destroy. 

Now that Harry Potter was entering his fifth year at Howarts, Voldemort knew that he must act soon. He had to destroy Potter before he knew of the powers that lay dormant within himself, before he realised that he had the power to destroy the Dark Lord once and for all.

Voldemort sat back on his lavishly gilded throne, imagining the various, horrible means he would use to torture the detested Potter before killing him. He smiled faintly, lost in his evil thoughts. 'At last, Harry Potter will be mine….'

So… did you like it? Let me know! ***here's a hint- if you like this story, I post _really_ fast when I get reviews!***

~Lin-z~


	5. Harry is Home

Harry Potter and the Unknown Title ****

Harry Potter and Gryffindor's Secret

Chapter 5: Harry is Home

By: Lin-z

A/N: I'm going to put all the thanks at the end this time … Sorry it took me so long to post this part, but I've been quite busy. I now hold two jobs in addition to preparing for university this summer … quite hectic! Anyhow, I will get on with the story now. Thank you ever so much for continuing to read this story!

Disclaimer: None of the recognisable characters are mine, and as I ate my candy bar, all I own now is my pillow. Please don't sue me! Now go on, read and review!

Harry was in absolute heaven as he sat astride the back of Sirius' great flying motorbike. He was flying, it was summer, he was with Sirius … The best part wasn't that he was leaving the Dursley's, either. As much as he detested them, he was able to stand them for the few months of summer holidays betwixt terms at Hogwarts. No, the best part of all this was that he was going to live with his parents' best friend. After ten years of not even knowing who his parents were and four more of hearing simply how similar he was to his father and the way in which they died, he was going to live with the person whom they trusted, and who knew them better than anyone. He smiled and closed his eyes, savouring the feeling of the cool air as it whipped past his face. 

'Are you all right back there, Harry? You've been awful quiet since we left the Dursley's place,' Sirius had to raise his voice a bit in order to make himself heard over the wind that rushed past their faces.

'Yeah, of course!' Harry replied, not needing to raise his voice as he was right at Sirius' ear. 'Just thinking is all. Where is your house, anyhow?' 

'It's a bit north of London, in Hertfordshire. It's actually a small wizarding village, no muggles for miles! I shouldn't think it would be too much lon- euch!' Sirius stopped in mid-sentence and started spitting, coughing and making odd choking noises. 

'Sirius … Sirius! What's wrong!?' Harry was worried - Sirius was now steering the bike with one hand whilst rubbing at his mouth with the other. 

'That was seriously nasty. Yuck!' Sirius spat.

'What happened?' Harry wondered. 

Sirius mumbled indistinctly, but Harry could have sworn he heard the word "bug." 

'Hm? What?' he asked. 

'I said, I got a bug in my teeth,' Sirius scowled. 

Harry started to laugh, but Sirius cut in, 'Think that's humorous, do you? I'm going to have to brush my teeth for an hour after this!' 

Harry looked contrite. 'Sorry,' he said, but as soon as Sirius had his back turned again, his face cracked and he began to snigger silently. 

'It's all right … I guess it _was_ kind of funny …' Sirius said. Harry was amazed - an adult with a sense of humour?! This summer was truly going to be the best summer holiday of his entire life.

Sirius and Harry rode on in silence for another quarter of an hour before Sirius spoke again. 'We're just about there,' he said, pushing the invisibility button as they slipped easily beneath the fluffy white clouds. 'If you look down you should be able to see the village from here,' Sirius said.

Harry looked down to see a small village similar to Hogsmeade, but smaller. There was a main street, and in the very centre was a large fountain. Gathered around the street were a great deal of people, all wearing robes of varying colours. To the sides of the main street were other sub-streets. There were houses of all different types, some of wood, some of stone, some of brick. Sirius passed all this, and continued to the outskirts of the village. Harry could see fields that looked as though the crops were coming in quite nicely. Before him he saw a large, three-storey mansion. It was old, and half-covered in creeping tendrils of green ivy, giving it a very regal look. It was easily the biggest home Harry had yet seen, and spoke of old family money. To one side of the house was a large and meticulously cared-for garden.

The garden was actually more of a park, with sandy paths for walking, lush green grass, and all sorts of plants Harry had learnt about in herbology, including many he hadn't. Exotic flowered vines crept around the trellised gates, covering them with their little purple blossoms. 

To the other side of the house, Harry saw something that made his jaw drop. It was a very large oval-shaped field. On either side of this field were three very tall golden posts with hoops at the top - a quidditch pitch! He could not believe his luck - he would be able to practice quidditch before the new season started at Hogwarts! 

Harry was torn from his reverie by a violent thud, signifying the end of their trip on Sirius' motorbike. Harry removed Hedwig's cage from his lap and set it on the ground beside him. Sirius turned in his seat to look at Harry, who was staring in open-mouthed admiration at his new home. Sirius smiled.

'So, you like it?' Harry started a bit at being spoken to. 

'Like it? No way, I love it!' Harry jumped off the back of the motorbike and picked up Hedwig's cage. 'This place is absolutely amazing, Sirius. How come you never told me about it?' he asked. 

'You never asked,' Sirius replied, 'And anyhow, I wanted it to be a surprise for you when you did see it. This house has been in the Black family for generations, and as the last surviving member, it's mine!' He smiled as Harry continued to ogle at the house and the quidditch pitch in particular. 'What do you say we go in and get you settled, and then we can come back out for a game of quidditch before supper?' Sirius asked. 

'That sounds great,' Harry replied, and the two of them made their way to the front of the house.

'What does that mean?' Harry asked, pointing to a brass plaque hanging over the door. There was a Latin phrase written on it, "Cave canem," but Harry, never having studied Latin, did not know what it said. 

Sirius chuckled and said, 'That was an old joke of my mum's. When she found out that I became a dog in my animagus transformations, she made that and put it up there. It is, of course, Latin, and it means "Beware of the Dog," we were all thoroughly amused when she made it,' he finished. 

Harry laughed, and the two of them walked up the stone steps. Sirius handed Harry a key. 'This is your key, so you can come and go as you please. Actually, you probably should not be doing too much going, circumstances being as they are, but I thought you should have a key anyhow. Go ahead, try it out!' 

Harry nodded and walked up to the leaded glass door. He fit the key in the lock, and it clicked. He turned the handle, and the door swung open, revealing a grand entrance hall.

There was a great crystal chandelier suspended from the ceiling, with hundreds of tiny enchanted candles flickering behind the crystal droplets. Two rounded staircases hugged the circular outer walls, meeting at the first storey landing. Harry looked at the floor to find the entire covered in crème coloured marble. Sirius led him up the staircase to the first storey. The landing, Harry saw, was actually a library. The wall was covered in heavy old tomes, most all of them coated with a thin layer of dust from disuse. There were two mahogany study tables in the centre, with tall candles on either end. The candles were held in intricate silver candelabras that matched the dark wood perfectly. Red cushioned chairs surrounded both tables, two on each side. 

'As you can tell, this is the library. To the right is the west wing, I generally don't go there, as it simply contains unused rooms. To the left is the east wing, where your room and mine are located,' Sirius explained, and led Harry to the left. 

There were three doors on each side of the hallway. 'The first doors are linen cupboards. The second doors are bathrooms, the one on the left is yours, the one on the right is mine, and beyond that are our rooms,' Sirius said, pointing to each in turn, then leading Harry to the third door on the left. He swung the door forwards, and both of them stepped into what would soon become Harry's room.

The room was beyond Harry's wildest imaginings. It was very large, with a ceiling that was unbelievably high. There were splendid silver candleholders along each of the four walls, and two magnificent picture windows looked out onto the quidditch pitch and the forest beyond. The bed was larger than the one he slept in at Hogwarts, and was made from carved mahogany with a fluffy white duvet and pillows that looked like miniature clouds. There was a wardrobe on the opposite wall, and two night tables, one on each side of the bed. Harry couldn't believe that this was all for him!

'If you'll give me your trunk I'll restore it to its proper size,' Sirius said. 

'Oh, right,' Harry said as he reached into his pocket and brought out his shrunken trunk. 

Sirius placed it on the floor, muttered '_restoro,_' and both watched as the trunk grew to resume its previous size. 'Well,' Sirius said, 'I reckon I'll leave you here to get ready while I have a go at brushing my teeth, then we can go out and toss the quaffle for a while before dinner,' he left Harry's room, grumbling about "those bloody flies." 

Harry set about trying to find his Firebolt, figuring that he could take the time to unpack properly after dinner. 'Ah-ha!' he said, pulling out his broom-case with a flourish. He inspected his broom carefully, making sure nothing had happened to it since he had put it away last. Satisfied, he gave it a quick polish and walked out into the hallway to wait for Sirius. When he emerged a few moments later, carrying his own broomstick (a Nimbus 2001), the two of them made their way to the pitch, conversing in loud, happy tones.

Two hours later, Sirius and Harry were still flying around the quidditch pitch and the clouds were taking on vivid shades of pink, orange, and yellow. It was a magnificent sight to behold, the sun sinking below the trees, but the two figures soaring around on broomsticks were too self-involved to notice. 

'Watch this, Sirius!' Harry shouted, as he threw the quaffle high up in the air, did a loop-the-loop, and caught it just as he pulled his broom strait. 

Sirius was about to tell Harry how much he reminded him of his father, but, knowing how much he had hated being compared to his own father, thought the better of it, and said, 'That's amazing Harry! Where on Earth did you learn to fly like that?' 

Harry gave a huge, lop-sided grin, and threw the ball to Sirius, saying, 'Just a little something I picked up is all.' 

Sirius laughed, and did a little stunt of his own, earning applause from Harry. 'Well done, old man!' 

Sirius frowned in mock anger, 'Watch it, whippersnapper! This _old man _could beat your socks off in a race any day!' he shouted back. 

Not one to turn down a challenge, Harry pulled up alongside Sirius. 'Well, I guess we'll just have to see about that, now won't we?' he said. 

'Right, on three- one, two, THREE!' They both shot forwards, laughing all the way, when a shout from below distracted them and they ended up slamming against each other. 

'OUCH!' both of them yelled at the same time, clutching their arms. They looked down to see Remus Lupin at the edge of the field. 

'Professor Lupin!' Harry shouted, and began a steep dive for the ground, Sirius close behind. 

'Hello, Harry, how are you?' Remus asked once both of them had landed safely on the ground. 

'Never better,' he said, rubbing his arm and smiling. 'How have you been, Professor?' he asked. 

'Really, Harry, I'm not your professor anymore. You can call me Remus,' Lupin replied, 'and I'm doing well. It seems your godfather, however, has got a bit forgetful in his old age,' he said, turning to Sirius, who was playing along, putting on a show of using his broomstick like a walking stick. 

'Sorry Remus old pal, Harry and I were a bit busy, and I completely forgot.' Sirius straitened up and shook Remus' hand. 'Good to see you,' he said. 

'Yeah,' Remus said, 'It's good to see you, as well. Are you two ready for dinner?' he asked. At just that moment, Harry's stomach growled loudly, answering Remus' question. He turned a bright shade of red and smiled, failing miserably at trying to hide his embarrassment. 

'I'll take that as a yes,' Sirius said, and the three of them made their way to the house for supper.

Dinner that night was a happy affair, the three of them talked and laughed loudly, thoroughly enjoying themselves. As it turned out, Remus and Sirius were very good chefs, and began to teach Harry some of the finer points of magical cooking. Harry caught on quickly, and the three of them had almost as much fun preparing the meal as consuming it. They sat around the table chatting and catching up until Remus looked at his watch. 'Good heavens, it's nearly 1.00 am! I really must be going,' he said, pushing back in his chair and standing up. They bade each other goodbye, Sirius and Harry promising to see Remus again soon. As soon as Remus was gone, Sirius and Harry dragged themselves up to their rooms. Both were utterly exhausted, and most definitely ready for bed.

'Goodnight, Harry,' Sirius said as they reached their rooms. 

'g'night, Sirius,' Harry replied, and both entered their rooms. Harry vowed to unpack tomorrow, but for tonight he was simply too tired to be bothered with unpacking. He pulled out a pair of Dudley's old pyjamas, and threw them on the bed. He put his trainers on the floor beside his bed, and changed out of his sweaty clothes. Once he was finished, he pulled back the pillows, asleep almost before he even hit the bed. His last conscious thought was that he had never, in all his life, been so happy.

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed that chapter! I personally love it when Sirius and Harry are able to have fun and be happy together, hence this chapter. In response to somebody's question- Hogsmeade is the only _entirely_ non- muggle establishment. There are other places, such as Diagon Alley, which are accessible only to magical persons, and this part of Hertfordshire is just that kind of place. And now, because you are all so amazingly wonderful and left me so many encouraging reviews, I offer big, "Texas-style" thank you's to: Itari15, kelzery, ~*Dumbledore's true Love*~, nagh (there will probably be another summer one besides this one!), Malena (you're awesome, I hope I didn't keep you waiting *too* long!), zara (thanks for the suggestions! I'll probably be choosing a definite title by the 6th or 7th chapters, I'll keep yours in mind!), Harry's Mum Lily (wow, I really love your new story and can't wait for the next chapter! I'm very glad you enjoyed mine!), Rachel, Jessie, Coqui (actually, you're on my author alert- I prefer that to favourites lists, so consider yourself a favourite!), Audiaa2 (absolutely loved your story, by the way- more good times ahead!), **special thanks goes to Giesbrecht for alerting me to a mistake with my Latin. I have changed it from cave cenam to cave canem. THANK YOU! (Latin is not my forte)** and last but certainly not least, saranth! Also to all you who are reading this for the first time, or even coming back to read chapter five, Pretty Please With a Cherry on Top don't forget to **leave a REVIEW**! 'Til next time,

Lin-z (who says to reviewJ )


	6. Confrontation

ch6confrontation ****

Harry Potter and Gryffindor's Secret

Chapter 6: Confrontation

By: Lin-z

A/N: My plot was a bit thin, so this chapter will, hopefully, thicken it a bit. Thank you so much for continuing to read this story, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

****

Disclaimer: As always, I do not own nor imply rights to the characters in this story. I simply borrowed them for this story. The plot is mine, but that's about it. Right, now it's on with the story.

Sirius looked to the grandfather clock across the room from where he sat sipping a lemon cream tea that was really more cream than tea. The arm marked "Harry" was still pointing to "sleeping," even though it was already a quarter past ten. He supposed Harry was taking a well-deserved lie-in; he had looked quite exhausted when he took him home yesterday. He wanted to let him sleep, but he also wanted to say good-bye to him before he had to leave for his meeting with Dumbledore and "the old crowd."

'Ah, the hell with it,' he thought to himself, 'I'll just go wake him up and he can go back to sleep later if he's all that tired.' Sirius finished the rest of his tea, cleaned the cup and saucer with a wave of his wand, and banished both to the cupboard. That done, he ascended the stairs and knocked lightly on Harry's door.

Just as he had expected, there was no reply. He gently opened the door, being very cautious so as not to make a sound. He chuckled to himself when he saw Harry. His godson was sprawled across the bed, the duvet and sheets tangled betwixt his legs. He had one arm draped over his eyes, and the other was hanging limp over the edge of the bed. It was really a very humorous sight, and he _almost_ hated to disturb him. Almost. 

He padded over to Harry's bed and sat down on the edge. He reached out and shook Harry's shoulder gently. He stirred a bit, but still did not awaken. Sirius shook him a bit harder and he began to mumble. 

'Hmm … Go away, Ron…' he rolled over and pulled a pillow over his head. 

As Harry became a bit more awake, he became aware that it couldn't possibly be Ron waking him, as he wasn't at Hogwarts. It was summer, so he should be at the Dursley's. But the person who was waking him wasn't yelling, so he couldn't be at the Dursley's, and besides, his bed at the Dursley's house had springs prodding him in all sorts of odd places, and this bed felt like he was sleeping on a cloud. 

'Would you wake up already, sleepyhead??' Sirius said.

Sirius! It was all coming back to him now - he was at Sirius' house, and he would never have to go to his muggle aunt and uncle's house again! He pulled the pillow off his head and tossed it aside. He sat up and rubbed his eyes sleepily. 

He gave Sirius a dopey smile and said, 'G'morning, Sirius!' 

'And Sleeping Beauty awakens!' Sirius joked. 

Harry pushed Sirius on the shoulder, and Sirius nearly toppled off the bed. 'I was tired, ok? Anyway, thanks for letting me have a bit of a lie-in,' Harry said. 

'No problem,' Sirius laughed, 'I would have let you sleep longer, but I wanted to tell you that I've got a meeting this morning. It should only be about two hours, and then we can do whatever you like,' he added.

'All right,' Harry said. 

'Oh, and Harry?' Sirius asked. 

'Yeah?' 

'Right, um, I'd prefer if you stayed inside whilst I'm gone today. You can explore the house and what not, but just don't go outside, all right?' 

Harry frowned, but agreed that, given the circumstances, it probably would be safer for him inside. 

'Okay, I promise. Have fun at your meeting!' he said. 

Sirius smiled, 'Right,' he said. He stood up and ruffled Harry's hair, then walked to the door. 

'See you, Harry,' Harry said good-bye and Sirius left.

Harry decided against going back to sleep and got up to unpack. He threw back the lid of his trunk, then stepped to the wardrobe and pulled back the doors. It looked much larger from the inside than he would have guessed from the outside, but that wasn't the part that surprised him most. The real shock came when he discovered that it was already filled with clothes! There were shirts, a couple jackets, trousers, jeans, shorts, socks … everything! He noticed a piece of parchment taped to the mirror on the inside of one of the doors, and pulled it down to read it.

Harry-

Thought you could use some new clothes after those hand-me-downs of your cousin's. These should be about your size, I had to guess. If they don't fit let me know and we'll fix them.

Sirius

Harry smiled to himself and pulled out a pair of shorts and a polo shirt. To his pleasure, they fit perfectly. Harry looked at his reflection in the looking glass. 

'Very sharp, dear,' it said. 

'Thanks,' he replied. He then went about finding an appropriate place to store Dudley's old clothes. His dustbin wasn't large enough, and there wasn't a fire for him to burn them in. He decided on a great plastic sack, which he hid under his bed. He placed his holiday assignments on the desk, and finished storing the rest of his belongings before heading downstairs for breakfast.

When he reached the dining room, Harry saw a breakfast of pastries, fruit, and juice spread out over the table. He ate as much as he cared to, something he wasn't used to doing during the summer. Once he had his fill, he got up to explore the mansion that was now his home. 

He found loads of closets and old rooms, most of which were dusty and of very little interest. There was a trophy room, with tonnes of old trophies. It seemed Sirius and his family had been very good at muggle sports - most of the trophies were for things like polo, rugby, lacrosse, and football. There were a few quidditch trophies, and along one wall were wizard photos of people with black hair playing all sorts of sports. There was one, however, which caught his interest in particular. Sirius was standing with Remus and his father, James, and Peter. Remus, James, and Sirius' faces were covered in great splotches of mud, and were wearing tired but triumphant faces, holding up a large rugby trophy. Peter was standing beside them, smiling as well, but clean, as though he hadn't been playing with them. Harry stared at the picture as his father and his father's friends smiled waved with their free hands. 

A few minutes later he found a door that opened to a set of stairs leading to a lower level. He found this odd, as he was already on the ground floor, and decided to have a look. He couldn't see the bottom of the stairs for the lack of light, so he left the door open and began to climb down the stone steps. Despite the summer heat filling the rest of the house, this old stone room was very cold. Harry folded his arms across his chest and shivered as he took the final step.

As his foot hit the stone floor below, six candles lining the walls flickered to life, illuminating what looked to be a storage room. There were a few old trunks, and all sorts of odds and ends scattered throughout. Cauldrons, scales, and glass phials littered one table. This must be where Sirius kept all of his old school things, Harry thought. He opened one of the trunks, and was startled to see letters addressed to his parents on top. As he dug a bit deeper, he found old journals that had once belonged to his parents. He pulled out his father's journal and looked at the year: 1980, the year he was born! The sound of a doorbell ringing from upstairs pulled him from his musings. He set the book back in the trunk and lowered the lid, vowing to come back as soon as he could. How better to learn what his parents had been like than from their own writings? 

He headed up the stairs to the front entrance. He saw the form of a man through the leaded glass, but due to the thick, rippled quality of the glass, was unable to discern who it was. He undid the lock and opened the door. Before Harry had the chance to get a good look at whoever was standing at the door, the cowled man threw a crumpled piece of paper at Harry's face. Harry instinctively reached up and caught it before it hit him in the eye, blanching as he felt the tugging behind his navel that could only mean that the piece of paper he was now holding was actually a portkey. 

As Harry disappeared, the man at the door sneaked inside. He ran up the stairs, pulling open every door until he found Harry's. He found Harry's broom and carried it down to the quidditch pitch, depositing it near the centre. When he had finished, he stepped back to the front door, closed it, and Disapparated with a small *pop. * 

Harry landed in a cold stone dungeon room. By some stroke of luck he was able to remain standing as his feet slammed against the hard floor, but that was about as far as luck would take him. He looked around at his new surroundings. The ceiling was low, and the grey stone walls were covered by tapestries depicting a regal looking man who appeared to be conversing with a dozen or so fearsome looking serpents. There was no furniture in the room, and, as far as Harry could see, the only thing in there aside from himself and the tapestries was an old wooden door, knotted and warped with age. He took a step towards the door, and two backwards when he saw it swing forward.

A tall, thin man with glowing red serpentine eyes and flowing black robes entered, followed by two cowled figures in robes of deepest black. The first walked to the centre of the room facing Harry whilst the two hooded Death Eaters remained lurking at the doorway. Harry's features hardened in absolute rage as the sight of his arch-nemesis, Lord Voldemort. 

'Ah, so we meet again, young Harry Potter. Absolutely corking to see you again,' he hissed menacingly.

Harry remained silent, scowling at Voldemort. His scar was burning abominably, seemingly about to rip his forehead in two, and it was all he could do to keep from wincing visibly.

'I see those muggle relatives of yours neglected to teach you manners. When an elder speaks to you, you respond. Perhaps this will help you remember a spot of respect to your superiors. _Crucio!_' Voldemort spat.

Voldemort smirked mirthlessly as he saw Harry squeeze his eyes shut and sink to the floor, writhing in unbearable pain. He fully expected to hear him scream, but decided he would settle for the look of exquisite agony on Harry's pale face.

Harry knew that to cry out with the pain he was now experiencing would only encourage the sadistic creature before him, so he endured the pain in silence. It felt like someone was twisting each one of the bones of his body whilst burning his skin with white-hot coals, and the scar on his forehead began to bleed a little. After a full minute that felt like an eternity, Voldemort lifted the curse. Harry felt weak and nauseous, and all he wanted to do was pass out.

Voldemort's face contorted into what was most likely meant to be a smile, but ended up looking more like a grimace. 'Not too pleasant, is it, boy?' he asked. 

Harry glared up at him but remained silent. 

'You WILL speak when you are spoken to, you insolent piece of filth. _Crucio!_' he shouted. 

Once more, Harry endured the pain letting no more than a low moan escape his lips. He was left weaker than before when Voldemort released him, and struggled to his knees, panting. 

'I'm looking for something, Harry, and you are going to tell me where it is,' Voldemort hissed. 

'I will do nothing of the sort,' Harry replied. 

'Yes, boy, I think you will find that is exactly what you will do. Now tell me, where is Salazar's spell-book?' Voldemort asked. 

'I don't know, but even if I did, I would die before telling you,' Harry spat. 

'For some reason, Potter, I reckon you don't. You are no use to me at the present, so I shall send you back. Please accept this as a parting gift, though,' he said. 

He pointed his wand at Harry and muttered some words that were inaudible to Harry. No sooner had the words escaped his lip-less mouth, however, than Harry felt his leg crumple from under him. The pain was as though the Cruciatus curse had centred itself in his leg, and he was sure that it was broken. 

'We can't have you telling anyone about our little rendezvous today, Harry. _Confundus_,' he said. 

Harry suddenly wondered where he was. "what am I doing here?" he thought to himself. 

Voldemort whispered the words to a powerful memory charm and placed a clod of dirt in Harry's hand. The black splotches in Harry's vision were expanding, and everything he heard seemed to be travelling a great distance through an echoing tunnel. There was a tugging sensation, and Harry could feel himself slam against the grassy ground of the quidditch pitch before he slipped into a merciful unconsciousness.

A/N: I know I'm an awful person for torturing Harry like that, but it was necessary to the plot. In case you were wondering why Mouldie Voldie didn't just kill Harry right then and there, it's because he needs information that Harry can't give him yet. He tortures Harry, but he can't kill him until he has what he needs. Please don't flame me, I promise there will be more fun summer chapters in the near future (Harry hasn't had his birthday yet, not to mention we haven't seen Ron or Hermione yet…)!!!!

Oh, and I've been getting questions about Harry's birth year. Here's how I figured it out: In the second book, Harry is at Nearly Headless Nick's 500th Deathday party. The year given was 1492, so 500 years would put the date at 31st October, 1992. If Harry is 12 in 1992, then that would mean that he would have had to have been born in 1980. So, you see, there is a reason! :)

Thank you so much for your excellent reviews, I was astounded at the number of reviews from the fifth chapter! I would really like to thank each of you personally, but if I did there would be an author's note just as long as the story. Please know that your individual reviews are all loved! Thanks for reading chapter 6, I'll get # 7 out as soon as possible (I can't leave Harry blacked-out on the quidditch pitch for long, I'm not that mean)! **_Please Review!_**

Lin-z


	7. Best Friends and Broken Legs

ch7bestfriendsandbrokenlegs ****

Harry Potter and Gryffindor's Secret

Chapter 7: Best Friends and Broken Legs

By: Lin-z

A/n: As always, thank you so much for all the encouraging reviews. I'm going to change the title on the main site before the next chapter. The new title will be Harry Potter and Gryffindor's Secret, so look for this story under the new title, not HP & the Unknown Title, because you won't find it. Thanks for all the suggestions!! You are all wonderful! **_Note for the story_**: in chapter 3, I mentioned that Severus Snape had gone into hiding and was changing his name in order to hide from Voldie. His name is Mohomri Harcourt, although the first few times he is mentioned I'll add a.k.a. Severus Snape. Mind you, after that, you'll just have to remember.

Disclaimer: hmm. I don't own anything from J.K. Rowling's books. I have a little poodle named Zeus, but no Harry Potter. Oh well. Right, on with the story!

** At the end of last chapter **

The black splotches in Harry's vision were expanding, and everything he heard seemed to be travelling a great distance through an echoing tunnel. There was a tugging sensation, and Harry could feel himself slam against the grassy ground of the quidditch pitch before he slipped into a merciful unconsciousness.

***

Sirius and Remus stepped from Dumbledore's office, followed by Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher, Minerva McGonagall, and Mohomri Harcourt (a.k.a. Severus Snape). The two professors bade the others good day, and turned to go to their respective offices. 

The remaining four made their way through the castle and out to the bright warm sunshine of mid-July. Remus, Sirius, Arabella and Mundungus strolled across the Hogwarts grounds; each lost in their own thoughts. They were members of an alliance against the dark arts, known as the Order of the Phoenix. Their duties were to protect the relics of Gryffindor and aide in the continued war against Voldemort and his minions, and the meeting of a few minutes ago related to both of them. They all knew that Harry was the last remaining heir to Godric Gryffindor, and as such, would be the only person able to use the Green Flame Torch. The Green Flame Torch was a weapon of Gryffindor's creation. It was indeed a torch, and when lit by the heir of Gryffindor, could be used to vanquish any evil. Their plan had been to use this against Voldemort, but they were worried about Harry. The Green Flame Torch was not a weapon to be used frivolously. It had the power to defeat evil of any strength, but for a weapon of that power to be used, especially by a child, would almost certainly be deadly. They had unanimously agreed not to tell Harry anything about it until they were absolutely sure it would be necessary. Even then, they would vehemently discourage him from using it - it was a sacrifice all of them were unwilling to make. 

The group reached the wrought-iron gate leading into Hogsmeade and stepped outside. The four of them said their good byes, and Disapparated. Remus and Sirius appeared near the quidditch pitch outside Sirius' house with a small popping noise. Just as they were about to walk around the side of the grassy field to the front door, they noticed someone lying in a heap near the centre of the field. They both gasped and ran forward as they recognised who it was.

'Harry! Harry, are you all right?!' Sirius shouted, running towards the still form of his godson. 

Sirius and Remus reached the bespectacled, black-haired figure and kneeled down on either side of him. Sirius lifted him into a sitting position and held him there, stroking his hair and calling his name softly. Harry's face was very pale and he was trembling gently. 

'Wake up, Harry! What's wrong with him, Remus?' Sirius asked, looking to his friend for help. 

'I don't know,' Remus replied. 'Do you want to try and enervate him?' 

Sirius looked at Harry and nodded. 

Remus pulled out his wand and pointed it at Harry's forehead, right above his scar. '_Enervate_,' he whispered. 

Harry's eyelids fluttered open and he groaned softly. 

'Gonna be sick…' he moaned, jerking forward and retching on the grass. 

'It's all right,' Sirius said, rubbing a hand up and down Harry's back. 

Sirius and Remus exchanged worried looks over his back. 

'What happened to you?' Remus asked as Harry sat back in his godfather's arms. 

'I…umm, I,' Harry said, taking in his surroundings and noticing that he was in the middle of the quidditch pitch with his broom a few feet away. 'I guess I fell,' he said, pretty sure that he didn't, but not knowing what else to say, as he didn't remember what did happen. 

'Hmm. Well, let's get you back into the house, Harry,' Sirius said, as he and Remus began to help him up from the ground. 

Harry yelped. 'Ouch! My leg…' he groaned, sinking back to the grass. 

Harry grabbed his right leg as the waves of pain shot out all up and down his leg. Sirius knelt down and examined Harry's leg, gently prodding it until he found the break in the bone. 

'Yikes,' he said. 'Did this happen when you fell?' 

Harry nodded. 'I think so, but I don't really remember,' he said. 

'Let's fix that up for you,' Remus said, pulling out his wand and murmuring the words to a healing spell Madam Pomfrey (the Hogwart's school matron) had used on him and his friends numerous times during their tenure at Hogwarts. Yellow light shot out of his wand and wrapped itself around Harry's leg, then began to dissipate until it vanished completely. 

'That should do it,' Remus said, and again they proceeded to help Harry to his feet. 

'I don't think it did,' he said through gritted teeth. His knees buckled and he fell back down to the ground. 

'Well, this _is_ a bugger,' Sirius said, looking closer at Harry's leg. 'It's broken, I can tell that much, but why won't Pomfrey's spell work on it?' 

'I don't know, Sirius, but we should probably go ahead and get Harry in bed anyway. Why don't you pick him up and take him upstairs and I'll get Dr. Matthews to come over and give him a look,' Remus said. 

'Right, good idea, Remus,' Sirius answered as he bent to lift Harry. 

'Harry, do you mind if I borrow your broomstick?' Remus asked. 

'No, go right ahead,' Harry replied. 

Remus lifted Harry's Firebolt and took off in the direction of the village. 

Sirius carried Harry up the stairs and to his room, careful not to touch or bump Harry's broken leg. Sirius pulled back the sheets and laid Harry on the bed. Harry bit his lip and tried not to cry out - Sirius was being very cautious, but his leg still pained him terribly. 

'I'll go find you a painkiller, then?' Sirius asked. 

Harry nodded. 'That would be great,' he said. 

Sirius exited the room and returned a few minutes later with a small vial filled with a deep blue liquid. 

'Go on and drink all of it,' he explained, 'it will make you a bit sleepy, mind, but it will do wonders for the pain.' 

Harry removed the cork and swallowed the contents. 'Thanks Sirius,' he said. His eyelids began to droop. 'Wow, you weren't jok-' his words were cut off abruptly as he fell asleep.

**

'I don't know what's wrong with it,' Dr Dexter Matthews was saying, 'It's broken, of course, but there's not a single spell that will heal it.' 

Harry was beginning to wake up, and though he still wasn't very alert, he could tell that the doctor's words were not what he wanted to hear. He kept his eyes closed, pretending to be asleep still and listening as the conversation continued to play out. 

'Well, what do we do, then?' Sirius' voice asked. 

The doctor was silent for a bit, thinking of what he had been taught to do in case he couldn't magic a bone back together. 

'I suppose we'll have to set it after a muggle fashion,' he said. 'He'll have to wear a muggle cast and use crutches for a time, but it should be fine in about nine weeks.' 

Harry opened his eyes and frowned. 'Nine weeks?' he said, catching everyone by surprise. 

'Yes,' the doctor replied, 'it was a pretty nasty break, and we can't magic the bone back together.' The doctor summoned his bag of supplies and removed what was needed to construct a plaster cast for Harry's leg. 

'Do you remember how this happened?' the doctor asked as he wrapped gauze around Harry's broken leg. 

'Not really,' Harry replied. 'All I remember is feeling like I was falling, and then Remus and Sirius woke me up and I puked my guts out.' 

The doctor chuckled. 'Did you hit your head at all?' 

Harry tried to remember, but he just couldn't. 'I guess I must have, when I landed,' he said. 

The doctor nodded knowingly. 'That would explain the memory loss,' he said. 

Remus and Sirius nodded. The doctor finished applying the plaster and turned to the three others gathered in Harry's room. 'He should stay in bed for the next couple of days, but after that it should be fine if he uses crutches to get around. I'll send some up tomorrow,' he said. 

Remus and Sirius thanked the doctor, and Dr Matthews Disapparated with a little * pop *. 

Sirius and Remus brought Harry some lunch and a few books to read in bed, and after Harry thanked them, they left to visit downstairs. Harry was still tired and decided to go back to sleep for lack of anything better to do.

**

Harry thought he could hear someone laughing, but he wasn't sure if it was part of the dream that he'd been having or not. 

'Shush, you'll wake him!' he heard a voice hiss. 

That voice sounded like Hermione! Harry opened his eyes to see his two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, standing by his bedside. 

'Ron! Hermione!' he shouted, pulling himself to a sitting position. 

'Hiya, Harry!' 'Hi Harry,' they said. 

Harry smiled at them. 'When did you guys get here?' he asked. 

'Sirius popped over and told my mum you'd broken your leg and might like some company, so I got Hermione and we decided to come over and surprise you,' Ron explained, 'We just got here by Floo powder a few minutes ago.'

'How's your leg?' Hermione asked, looking at the plaster cast on Harry's leg, worried. 

'It's all right, I guess. Sirius gave me this pain potion, so it doesn't hurt anymore,' he answered. 

'Why do you have to wear that silly muggle cast, though?' Ron asked. 

'I don't know,' Harry said, 'the doctor couldn't heal it with magic for some reason, so they put this thing on. I have to wear it for nine whole weeks.' Harry groaned. 

The three friends chatted happily for the rest of the day, until Sirius brought dinner up for them to eat in Harry's room. 

'Ready for dinner, you three?' He asked, walking into the room with four trays levitating behind him. 

'Yeah!' all three shouted at once. 

Sirius laughed and handed out the trays, and they chatted brightly as they ate, their plates refilling themselves as needed, until they were all quite full. 

'Ah,' Ron said, leaning back in his chair and massaging his stomach, 'now _that _was a good supper!' 

'Yeah, it sure was! All thanks to chéz Sirius, here!' Harry said. 

Sirius stood up and bowed deeply. 'Thank you, thank you,' he said. 

'So are you guys staying the night?' Harry asked Ron and Hermione. 

'Yes, I think we'll be going home shortly after you get your crutches,' Hermione answered. 

'That's excellent!' said Harry, thinking of how amazing it was that at this time, last week, he had been having lettuce and a slice of tomato for dinner after a hard day of "Dursley chores," whereas here he was now, surrounded by friends and eating real meals. 

'I'm sure we'll be able to get loads of holiday assignments done tomorrow!' Hermione said, sounding truly enthusiastic about the prospect of a whole day of homework tomorrow. 

'Yippee,' Harry and Ron said, looking at each other with exasperated looks on their faces and waving their forefingers in tight upright circles in the air. 

'Come on, I bet you guys haven't even started yet. Besides, think how great it will be if we get them all done tomorrow and you don't have to do another assignment all summer?' She argued. 

'She's got a point there, I mean, if I'm stuck in bed all day long I might as well get some work done,' Harry consented. 

Ron reached over and felt the top of Hermione's head. 

'Oi, here it is!' he shouted, smiling broadly. 

'Here's what?' Hermione asked, sounding flustered. 

'Your point!' he said, and Ron, Harry, and Sirius burst out laughing, as Hermione frowned. 

'Har har, very funny, it is to laugh' she said. Then she, too, began to smile and then join in on the laughter. Slowly they began to settle down, the conversation turned to quidditch, and Sirius left the room. 

'Are you going to try for the team this year, Ron?' Harry asked. 

'I think so. When my brothers and I used to play, I would always play keeper. That position's open this year, right?' 

Harry nodded. 'Yeah, our last keeper was Wood, and he graduated at the end of third year.' 

'Who do you think is going to be captain this year, Harry?' Hermione asked, thinking even talking about quidditch was better than sitting there doing nothing. 

Harry stifled a yawn, 'I don't know. Maybe one of the girls, like Katie or Alicia, or maybe even Fred or George,' he answered. 

'Come on kids,' Sirius said, poking his head in the door. 'I think it's time we let Harry get some rest. Ron, you'll be staying in here, and Hermione, if you'll come with me, I have another room for you,' Sirius said. He conjured a camp bed and some pyjamas for Ron, then Hermione and Sirius said goodnight to Harry and Ron and they left to show Hermione to her room.

Harry decided to just sleep in his clothes, as it would have been a great bother to have to get up and change into his pyjamas. 'G'night, Ron,' Harry said. ''Night, Harry,' Ron replied, as he pulled on his nightclothes. The two of them slipped under the covers and fell asleep almost immediately.

I know this chapter is a bit short, but if I included the next part it would make it too long, and besides, I wanted to post this tonight. To Randee, who called me a moron for spelling pyjamas with a "y" as opposed to an "a," in the U.K., that's the proper spelling. I use spell checker! Ü Anyhow, thanks again for reading! 

Lin-z (who says to **review**, please!)


	8. The Basement Room

thebetterch8

Harry Potter and Gryffindor's Secret

Chapter 8: The Basement Room

By: Lin-z

AN: Here it is, chapter eight! If you have any questions/comments/concerns, please direct them to my e-mail address: icklebugger1983@yahoo.co.uk or leave your e-mail address in your review. I will answer any received in a timely manner! Oh, and I'd like to extend a public thank-you to the people who beta-read this for me, and to Coqui, who has offered to do it again next time! I've made quite a few revisions in the previous chapters, including an author's note regarding Harry's birth-year in chapter 6, so, if you want, you can go back and read it. 

Disclaimer: I, of course, am not J.K. Rowling or Warner Bro's, and therefore neither own nor imply rights to Harry Potter. (Do I _have_ to do one of these each time??) Oh well. On with the story, you say? Right then! 

Harry sat astride his Firebolt, soaring high above the Earth. It occurred to him that he hadn't the slightest idea as to why he was flying, or where, for that matter, but he was powerless to change directions. Resigning himself to the self-steering broomstick, he looked down to the ground over which he was flying. There was a troubled dark sea, and a short distance away was an island. Actually, to Harry, it seemed to be more of giant rock with a great stone fortress atop. As he neared the fortress, he recognised it from pictures he had seen in his History of Magic course books as Azkaban, the famous wizard gaol. His broomstick slowed and began to descend, cutting through the cold salty spray of the crashing waves as they broke against the rocky cliff.

The broom came to a stop just outside an open window, and Harry scrambled off, crouching on the ledge. He climbed off the sill, jumped, and landed lightly on the floor just below. He turned around, leaning out of the window to collect his broom, discovering that it had vanished. He was about to reach further out to search for it when he heard voices approaching the room in which he now stood. Before he was able to properly conceal himself, though, the two men had entered the room. They appeared not to notice the frightened teenager by the window, however, and continued conversing in the same hushed tones. They appeared to be making small talk, as if waiting for someone else to arrive.

Harry listened carefully, trying to decipher what it was they were talking about, but, not hearing anything of particular interest, he decided to take a look at the room around him. It was a cavernous stone room, rectangular in shape. It's rough stone walls looked much like the outer walls of the fortress. Torches in brass fixtures burned at intervals along the walls, lending a flickering, surreal atmosphere to the stone chamber. Close to the centre of the room there was a square dais, upon which was a gilded throne. The throne was made of green velvet, and appeared to be resting upon legs of coiled golden serpents. The two Death Eaters standing before the dais abruptly ceased speaking as a third robed figure glided into the room.

Harry slapped a hand to his scar as a burning pain rent his forehead. He knew, without having to see the serpentine visage, that the man who had just entered the room was none other than the iniquitous Voldemort, the vilest dark wizard of recent history. Voldemort was wearing robes of blackest velvet, his face set in an unpleasant scowl as he approached his place on the dais.

The moment Voldemort had entered the room, the two Death Eaters prostrated themselves upon the floor, arms stretched out before them, foreheads touching the cold stone floor. Neither dared look up as the dark lord seated himself upon the gilded throne, sneering disdainfully at his cowering subjects. Once he was seated, they crawled forward one at a time and kissed the hem of his robes, then crawled back and resumed their previous positions.

'Get up,' he hissed. The Death Eaters rose to their feet and looked to their master expectantly. 'Lucius,' he spat, and the taller man to the right stepped forward. 'Yes, my lord?' he replied. 'You have performed admirably. Do they suspect any, shall we say, foul play?' Voldemort questioned.

'No, I don't believe so, sir,' Lucius Malfoy replied. 'I was in hiding nearby when they discovered him. They believe he had an accident on his broomstick. They do not suspect our part in this.' 

Voldemort smiled, which, on his terrible face, was anything but pleasant. 'That is good, you have done well. You are free to go,' the dark lord said, turning to face the other Death Eater as Malfoy hastily exited the room. 

'Nott,' he said. 'Your last mission went well, as we now have complete control of Azkaban and the Dementors. How goes your new assignment?' he inquired. 

Nott looked around uncomfortably, twisting his fingers as he thought how best to answer his master. 'My lord, it is difficult. Gryffindor's book has proved most elusive. I can find no records on where it or Slytherin's potion might be located,' he answered reluctantly. 

__

'Crucio!'Voldemort shouted, and Nott fell to the floor, writhing as the curse wracked his body. A few moments later Voldemort lifted his wand and Nott shakily returned to his feet. 'I am sorry, my lord,' he said in a voice little more than a whisper. Voldemort ignored his feeble apology. 'You will find the location of Gryffindor's spell book, or next time the punishment will not be so easy.' 

Nott nodded. 'Yes, my lord,' he replied. 

'You may go. Tell the others I approve of muggle torture, no killings, mind.' Voldemort watched the retreating form of his minion and slammed his fist against the arm of his throne. 'Mark my words, I **_will_** have Harry Potter!' He yelled to no one in particular.

At this display of anger another shock of pain shot through Harry's scar, and he burst up in bed, panting as if he had been running. Two pale and sleep-rumpled faces jerked back at Harry's abrupt return to wakefulness. 

'Harry, are you all right?' A Sirius-shaped blur inquired. Harry found his glasses and slid them on. 

'Harry, you gave us quite a fright! What happened?' Ron added.

Harry rubbed at the lingering pain in his scar. 'I'm fine, I think I had a bad dream is all. Why are you two awake?' he asked. 

'I woke up when I heard you thrashing about in bed. I tried to wake you,' Ron said, 'but when you wouldn't wake I ran to fetch Sirius, and he couldn't wake you either. That was strange,' he finished, looking at Harry worriedly.

'You weren't dreaming about You-Know-Who again, were you?' Sirius asked, his worried expression matching Ron's to perfection. 

'Erm, no … of course not! Just one of those bothersome "oh dear, I've gone to school in my knickers" dreams,' Harry lied. 'I'm okay, so I'll just go back to sleep now,' 

Sirius looked doubtful. 'Are you sure?' he asked.

Harry nodded. 'Yeah, thanks. You can both go back to bed now,' Harry replied as he removed his glasses and adjusted the bulky cast to a more accommodating position. Ron and Sirius nodded and said goodnight before returning to their own beds. 

Harry lay back against his pillows and closed his eyes, thinking. His night-time rendezvous with Voldemort had proved informational, but Harry didn't know what to make of it. Voldemort must have abducted him somehow and broken his leg, which would account for why it would not heal magically. He had read, at one point in his research for the Triwizard Tournament, that there were certain injury curses which could not be healed by magic, and had to mend naturally. He knew, however, that if he told anyone that Voldemort had done this to him, that Sirius would doubt his abilities as a protector and Harry would be forced to leave, and that simply wouldn't do. 

He also now knew that Voldemort had taken residence in Azkaban. That must have been a recent occurrence, because it had only been a week or so since Pettigrew had been administered The Kiss, and that wouldn't have happened with Voldemort in command. This he had to tell someone, and he resolved to write a letter to Dumbledore in the morning.

The thing that bothered him most, though, was that he now knew that Voldemort was up to something again. He had mentioned a Book of Gryffindor, and a potion of Slytherin, but as he had never heard of either, he didn't know what to make of them. Harry determined to do a little investigation of his own. Whatever they were, they must be important and dangerous to have Voldemort seeking them. For the time being, however, he was perfectly content to succumb to exhaustion and soon fell into a dreamless sleep.

The next day passed uneventfully. Harry, Ron and Hermione spent a good deal of time working on their holiday coursework, much to Ron's displeasure. Sirius let them alone until mid-afternoon, when the doctor arrived with Harry's crutches. Sirius and Dr Matthews went into Harry's room to find the three of them surrounded by stacks of books and parchment, arguing about Divination assignments. 

'You can't just keep making it up,' Hermione was saying. 'Sooner or later she's going to find out what you've been doing.' 

Ron waved her away. 'As long as we predict plenty of doom-and-gloom, she's perfectly happy!' Hermione frowned. She definitely didn't like that class, but it was almost a personal insult when people didn't do their homework properly. 

'Hi kids,' Sirius said. The three of them turned around, surprised to see Sirius and Dr Matthews standing in the doorway. 

'Hi,' they replied. 

'So Harry, are you ready for your crutches?' Dr Matthews asked, holding out a pair of wooden crutches. 

'Am I ever!' He said, reaching for the crutches. 

'I've given them a cushion charm, so they shouldn't be that uncomfortable. If you'll stand up I can fit them to your height.' Harry took the crutches under his arms, and stood up. The doctor placed them at the correct height, and showed Harry how to use them. 

'Thank you, Dr Matthews,' Harry said as the doctor prepared to leave. 

'You're welcome, lad. You're to come see me in three weeks, mind. Want to make sure the bone is setting right.' 'All right,' Harry replied. The doctor bade them good day and Disapparated with a pop. 

'Wow, Harry, those are neat! Real muggle crutches!' Ron exclaimed, crossing the room to get a better look at Harry's new crutches. 

'Oh yeah,' Harry said, smiling at Ron's enthusiasm, 'they're real swell.' 

'How about some lasagne?' Sirius asked. 'Sounds great!' they replied, and they all made their way downstairs for dinner.

After everyone had had their fill and all was cleaned up, it was time for Ron and Hermione to leave. Hermione's home had been connected to the Floo Network for the evening, and with a pinch of powder, she was gone. Ron left soon after, making arrangements to have Harry visit the Burrow later in the summer.

***

The next day, being a Monday, Sirius had to go to work. Before Azkaban, Sirius had been an Auror, so he was now employed by Albus Dumbledore, trying to find leads on what was going on with Voldemort. He and Harry breakfasted together, and then it was almost time for Sirius to leave. 

'Harry, I have a question for you,' Sirius said. 

Harry looked up from putting the dishes back in the cabinet. 'Okay, what is it?' he asked. 

'Just what _were_ you doing outside the other day?' Sirius inquired. 

'Um, I guess I just figured it wouldn't matter if I only went outside for a bit,' he lied. Harry didn't think his godfather would have a very easy time understanding that Harry was with Voldemort, and he knew that it would get his godfather needlessly upset.

'Hmm … Just be sure it doesn't happen again, okay?' Sirius said. 'Have fun Harry, and don't get into too much trouble, or we'll have to find you a nanny!' he joked. Harry groaned. 'I'm teasing,' Sirius added. 'How about this- when I get back home I'll start teaching you to Apparate!' 

Harry grinned from ear to ear. 'Really?' 

'Yes, really!' Sirius said. 

'That sounds great!' Harry exclaimed. They said goodbye, and Sirius Disapparated.

Soon after Sirius left, Harry made his way to his room to write his letter to Dumbledore. He told his professor that he had had a dream, in the which he had seen Voldemort and a few Death Eaters in an island fortress resembling pictures he had seen of Azkaban. He asked if what he had seen had truly happened, then tied the roll of parchment to Hedwig's leg and sent her off.

Harry knew precisely what he wanted to do next. He hadn't been able to finish exploring that basement room he had found the other day, and he wanted to see how much of his parents' things were actually down there. He picked up his crutches and hobbled his way from the second storey to the basement steps, being very careful so as not to miss a step and tumble down. Just as before, the candles around the wall sprang to life just as he touched the base of the steps. The room was just as he had left it, with his parents' trunk in the centre. He cleared out enough space before it to allow him a place to sit, then sat in front of the trunk and lifted the lid. There were neat bunches of envelopes addressed to his parents, each tied neatly with a scarlet ribbon. Beneath the letters he found annuals of his parents' Hogwarts years, journals his parents had written, and various other memorabilia. There was one thing, in particular, that caught his eye. There was a folded piece of parchment attached to the lid of the trunk, and it bore his name. In emerald green ink, the words "Harry Potter" glittered as though they had been written yesterday. With tears in his eyes, he gently removed the parchment, and broke the seal (a red letter "P" with a rampant lion behind it). He unfolded the letter and began to read:   
  
_Our Dear Harry,_

__

Harry, my son, as I write this letter and I watch you playing happily with your father, it saddens me to know that the only way you will see this is if we are gone. Voldemort's forces continue to gather strength, and I know it will not be long now until he finds us. Please know that while we are gone from this mortal world, we still love you and watch over you. As a wise man once told me, 'The dead we love never truly leave us.' 

We are leaving this trunk with Sirius in hopes that you will, one day, be able to get to know us better through the items within. It contains our journals, annuals, letters (including some fluffy love letters your father insisted we include … your father is incorrigible), and photographs. 

We love you, dear, and you mean the world to us. Don't forget who you are, and the potential you posses. You hold powers unique to yourself, and I pray that you never have to use them. If, however, the time comes that such powers are necessary, we trust you to make the right decision. 

With all our love,

James and Lily Potter

Harry folded the letter and wiped the tears from his eyes. He carefully placed it where he had found it, and pulled out an old annual from 1978, his parents' final year at Hogwarts. He spent all day lost in his parents' memories, so lost, in fact, that he didn't hear his godfather's approaching footsteps. 

'Harry,' Sirius called out softly. 

Harry jumped and turned around. 'Sirius! Oh dear, you startled me!' he said. 

'Sorry,' his godfather replied. 'I see you've found your parents' trunk,' he said. 

Harry nodded. 'I found it sometime before I broke my leg, but I didn't have a chance to really look inside, so I came back today,' Harry said. 

'That's fine,' Sirius said, 'I was going to show this to you shortly anyhow, but since you've found it on your own, what do you think?' he asked. 

'It's incredible,' he replied. 'The only thing I had from my parents was my father's cloak, the one Professor Dumbledore gave me first year. It's been great having it, but it's nothing like this,' Harry said. 

Sirius nodded sombrely. 'I think they knew somehow that they would never see you grow up, and they wanted you to have some way of getting to know them.' Harry turned his head, blinking rapidly and fighting tears. 

'How about we go upstairs now and I start teaching you to Apparate, like I promised. I know it's not exactly legal for you, but if you only do it around the house, it shouldn't present a problem, and it will make it ever so much easier to get around, not having to use those crutches,' Sirius said, trying to distract Harry. He'd never seen him get emotional about anything- even last year at the end of the Triwizard Tournament he hadn't been like this. Harry smiled and nodded. 'That's an excellent idea,' he said, putting things back in the trunk and grabbing his crutches. Sirius helped him up, and together they walked upstairs, leaving the basement room and the memories it contained for another day.

AN: Yes, I know Apparating is illegal for underage wizards, but Sirius is just trying to make Harry's life easier, and this will come in handy later in the story, so yeah. Thanks again to the numerous people who have reviewed the previous chapters! (Those of you who weren't planning on leaving a review could take a lesson from them!) So here's farewell 'till next chapter! **REVIEW**! Ü (for those of you who asked what that means, it's a smiley face … the umlaut is it's eyes, and the U is a smile.)


	9. Happy Birthday Harry!

****

Harry Potter and Gryffindor's Secret

Ch. 9: An Untruth Confessed/ Happy Birthday, Harry

By: Lin-z

A/N: I've had a few questions regarding how I came up with Harry's birth year, and those are answered in the author's note at the end of chapter six. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy!

Same disclaimer applies. I don't own them! 

Sirius' plan to distract Harry had definitely worked. Harry was concentrating so hard on what he was doing that he became practically oblivious to anything going on in the room around him. Sirius had explained to Harry many of the dangers associated with learning the art of Apparition. You had to focus your entire attention to the spot you wanted to land, or you could end up in the wrong spot, in the best of situations, or splinching yourself in the worst case. There was also quite a hefty fine for underage Apparition without a permit, so he had warned Harry frequently that the only place he was to Apparate was within the Black Manor grounds. Much like driving an auto, Apparating on private property was at the homeowner's discretion, and did not require a license. Harry's one worry had been that he would get caught performing underage magic as he had just prior to his second year, but Sirius had assured Harry that, as Apparating required no use of a wand, it was perfectly safe.

The first step to learning to Apparate was learning to focus your concentration. For this, Sirius had shown Harry an exercise entailing moving things with one's mind. Most wizards professed some degree of telekinetic ability, and it was this power that made Apparition a power available to almost all within the magical realm. While heavier things were quite difficult to move telekinetically, things such as feathers worked perfectly. All he had to do was concentrate on the feather, and imagine it moving from the spot where it was currently resting to a point a few centimetres away. When he had first started, he had barely been able to get the downy strands of the feather to twitch. Now, however, he was able to move it most of the distance across the table.

'Look, Sirius!' Harry said with enthusiasm, 'I think I've got it!'

Sirius watched as the feather raced across the smooth wood of one of the tables in the library. 'Well done, Harry! You've mastered that quite rapidly,' he said.

Harry smiled in a very self-satisfied manner. 'Thanks,' he replied.

'I reckon that's as good a place as any to leave off on, what do you say we go out on the town for supper and pick this up again tomorrow?' Sirius asked.

'Sounds good to me!' Harry said, picking up his crutches from the floor beside his chair and standing up.

Harry's question of how exactly they would be getting to the village was answered when Sirius summoned a black convertible BMW from around the side of the house. 

'I didn't know you had a car,' Harry said, as Sirius helped him into the front seat, throwing his crutches in the back.

'I rented it,' Sirius explained, 'I've got it for the next month and a half, until you go to Hogwarts. I've grown quite fond of it, though, so I suppose I just might buy it.'

Sirius revved the engine and tore out of the driveway to Black Manor. The ten-minute drive into town took a mere five minutes, as Sirius was a "bit" of a fast driver. When they finally came to a stop in front of The Blind Man's Bluff, an old pub, Harry had to pry his fingers from the door, where he had been holding on for dear life. 

'Wow,' he said, taking his crutches from Sirius and climbing out of the car. 'That was really fast!'

Sirius chortled and led Harry inside. 

The pub was decorated in old English style, with dark panelled walls and hewn wooden flooring, looking rather like an antique hunting lodge. There was a great stone hearth in the centre, and a roaring fire that gave the whole pub a very pleasant ambience. A young man at the door led them to a booth overlooking the street, handed them menus, and went off to greet the next customers. 

'Sirius? Is that you?' Harry looked around to see who had spoken, and saw an old wizard approaching the table and gawking at Sirius.

'Howard! Well it has been a long time! How've you been?!' Sirius said, standing from the table and exchanging a friendly handshake with the old wizard.

'I've been well, and you? Dear me, it must've been, what, fourteen years since I've seen you! Still keeping in plenty of trouble?' Howard said, looking Sirius up and down.

'I'm well … Not as much trouble as before, I'm afraid. Howard, I don't suppose you've met my Godson,' he said, gesturing to Harry. 'This is Harry Potter.'

Harry stood up, leaning against the table, and shook hands with Howard. 

'Blimey, everyone knows Harry Potter!' he said, his eyes doing the familiar flick to Harry's scar. 'Nice to meet you, Harry.'

'A pleasure,' Harry replied pleasantly, resuming his seat at the table.

'Well, it's been great seeing you again, Sirius, but I'm afraid I must be getting back to work now,' Howard said, giving Sirius an amicable slap on the shoulder and heading back towards the back of the pub.

'Who was that?' Harry asked once the man was out of earshot.

'That's Howard, he owns this pub. My family used to come here all the time when I was a lad,' Sirius explained. 

The rest of the evening passed in much the same manner. It seemed Sirius was quite well known and universally liked as a youngster, and most people had supposed that he was innocent all along. Most congratulated him on his release, and were astounded to find that the mischievous Sirius Black had taken young Harry Potter in. The food was superb (fish and chips with extra lemon and ketchup) and Harry enjoyed himself immensely, chatting politely with Sirius' old friends until the hour was late, and Sirius suggested they return home.

Harry had fallen asleep by the time they returned home, and Sirius had to prod him back to wakefulness so that he could go upstairs to bed. He climbed the stairs and fell wearily into bed, barely pausing long enough to pull his pyjamas on. 

**

It was a few days before Harry received his reply from Professor Dumbledore. He had almost forgotten he'd sent the letter, but he opened it eagerly once he remembered. The reply honestly surprised him:

__

Dear Harry,

Can you remember anything else from your dream? It is imperative that you tell me everything, and please don't leave out a single detail. It had not come to my attention previously that Azkaban had slipped from our control, which means that Minister Fudge is no longer fighting with us, but rather, against us. Voldemort now has a stronghold in the magical community, and we must fight even harder if we are to come out on top. I have enlisted the help of many within the Ministry, but if you are receiving knowledge in your visions, it could prove to be vital to our cause. Again, I urge you to tell me all you know, and please don't leave out even the seemingly irrelevant details. The magical community thanks you and I thank you for your bravery and courage.

Sincerely,

Professor Albus Dumbledore

Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Harry swallowed hard. He was going to have to tell Dumbledore everything that he had seen in his dream, which meant that he would also have to tell Sirius he'd lied to him. The thought made him almost physically sick. "Why did I even have to lie in the first place?" he thought to himself as he gathered parchment, quill, and ink to write to Dumbledore. "I can be such a _git_!" Harry put his quill to the parchment and thought back to the night of his dream. He still remembered it quite vividly - a dream such as that is not easily forgotten.

__

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

I can still remember most of my dream, although I told you the most important bits in my last letter. Here's the rest of it, though, I hope it helps.

I was flying, and when my broom landed, I was at an island fortress that looked very much like pictures I'd seen of Azkaban. When I got off my broomstick, I was in a room with two Death Eaters. I don't know precisely what they were talking about, but a short while later, Voldemort entered the room. He called the first forward, Lucius Malfoy, by name. He congratulated him on a job well done, and asked him if "they" suspected anything. I think they were talking about me, sir, as he said that "they" suspected that the "boy" had had an accident on a broomstick, which is how I had thought I had broken my leg. Come to think of it, I reckon that's the reason why they can't heal it with magic. 

Anyhow, after that, Voldemort excused him, and called the second Death Eater forward. He called this one Nott, and thanked him for securing Azkaban and the Dementors. The next bit is what confused me. He asked him about a book that had belonged to Gryffindor and something about a potion of Slytherin's. He seemed to be really quite angry when Nott replied that he hadn't found anything new. What is it he's after?

One other point of interest: Voldemort has, for some reason, discouraged his Death Eaters from anything more than muggle torture. Perhaps this is why my scar hasn't been hurting much this summer? That's all I can remember. He hit Nott with Cruciatus, but that's to be expected. I woke shortly after with a pain in my scar.

I'll be sure to write again if I have another dream.

Harry Potter

Harry read it through again before sealing it and sending it off with Hedwig, who seemed to sense his mood and hooted reassuringly before flying off. Harry glanced at his watch and noticed that Sirius would be back in about an hour. How ever was he going to tell him? Harry cursed himself again for having lied to his godfather, the person whose trust he treasured most. Harry spent the next hour running through different scenarios in his head, before drawing the conclusion that he should just come out with it right off. He left his room and headed for the sitting room downstairs, where he waited for Sirius to return.

** 

'Hullo, Harry,' Sirius said, upon finding Harry.

'Hi Sirius,' replied Harry, a bit sullenly.

'What seems to be the trouble?' Sirius asked, as he sat in an over-stuffed chair across from Harry.

'Well,' he began, 'there's something I've got to tell you ... ' Harry then proceeded to relate to Sirius everything he had told to Dumbledore, this time not leaving anything out. Sirius listened quietly, his expression getting graver as Harry continued speaking. By the time Harry had finished apologising for not telling him earlier, Sirius was wearing a well-established frown.

'Have you told Dumbledore? Why didn't you tell me all this earlier?' he asked. 'I thought we had established the fact that we could tell one another anything, and this was important.'

'Yes, and I don't know,' Harry replied. 'I was scared, I guess. I thought that maybe if I told you Voldemort had done this to me, that you and Dumbledore would make me go back to the Dursley's. I'm really, really sorry, and I promise I won't do it again,' Harry pleaded.

'I would never make you go back there, Harry,' Sirius said, looking Harry straight in the eyes. 'I will, however, need to put up some stronger protective charms around the house and grounds. Tomorrow evening I'll have Remus, Mundungus and Arabella over to help us,' Sirius said. 'In the meantime, I want you to swear to me that you will come to me or Dumbledore if you have any more of those dreams.'

'Promise,' Harry said.

'Good, then. Now let's have supper, shall we?' Sirius asked, and the two went off to the kitchen, Harry feeling as though 100 kilos had just been lifted from his shoulders.

**

Although Harry had not as yet done any actual Apparating, he was getting better at the exercises Sirius had told him to do. As Apparating did not entail the use of a wand, there were a great variety of things that could go wrong. In order to keep from making those mistakes on himself, he had been asked to practise with objects, such as books. As the ability to make objects Apparate and Disapparate was more difficult, once he had mastered that it would be easy, by comparison, to do human Apparition.

Harry frowned and furrowed his brow, concentrating with all his might on making the book in front of him, _101 Ways to De-gnome a Garden_ by Miranda Steward, disappear and reappear in a spot on the other side of the room. The book popped out of sight, then, a moment later, reappeared quite a distance from the intended table. 

'Hmpf!' he grunted, heaving himself from the chair to hobble over to the book. He was doing great at making it disappear and reappear, but his aim was still sloppy, at best. It simply wouldn't do to have him attempt Apparating downstairs for breakfast and landing in the sink. Harry tried once more, this time managing to get the book a bit closer to its target, but not close enough. 

He picked the book up and re-shelved it, deciding to spend the rest of the day reading the diary he had brought up from his parents' trunk. It was his father's, from the year 1980 (*see A/N at the end of Ch. 6). While life had definitely not been what one could call carefree, his father held a very optimistic outlook towards life, and it was a very encouraging read. His favourite bits were where his father talked about his mother, and the baby they were expecting.

__

…Lily grows more beautiful with each passing month. Only one more to go! I simply can't believe that I'm going to be a father! It seems that only yesterday I was out traipsing through the Forbidden Forest with Padfoot, Moony, and Wormtail. I wonder what he'll be like. Will he be more like Lily or myself? Lily seems convinced it's a boy, though I'm sure she'd be delighted either way. We've decided that if it is a boy, we'll name him Harry, after his grandfather, and James, after yours truly. If it's a girl …well, we haven't thought of an appropriate name as yet…

Harry spent the next few hours reading through his father's journal. He had just put it down to resume practise, when he heard an assortment of footsteps approaching the first storey library. 

'Hi Harry,' Sirius said, as he reached the landing, followed by a small group of people about his age. Harry recognised Remus Lupin, but the witch and wizard with them he had never met.

'Hi,' Harry replied, getting to his feet.

Sirius gestured to the two newcomers standing beside him. 'This is Arabella Figg,' he said, pointing to a witch on his right, 'and this is Mundungus Fletcher,' he said, pointing to the wizard on his left. 'You may have heard about these two,' he added.

Arabella held out a hand, which Harry shook. 'Hi, nice to meet you,' he said. Arabella was young, close to Sirius in age, with shoulder-length curly light brown hair and dark blue eyes. She was pretty in a natural sort of way, with very little make-up and a big friendly smile.

'And you as well,' she replied, eyes sparkling. 

Harry went over to greet Mundungus' hand next. Mundungus was short, just about Harry's height, with auburn hair and hazel-green eyes. He had the build of a beater, with broad shoulders and a thick chest. 'Hi,' Harry said.

'They've come tonight to help us set up the wards around the manor,' Sirius said, leading them back down the steps towards the front door. 

'By the time we're done here tonight,' Mundungus said, 'any one with questionable intent won't be able to come with in 5 km of this place!' 

The group spent the next two hours setting up complicated wards and charms all through out the grounds, including a tricky little one that prohibited outside apparition (meaning that one could only Apparate within the house, without leaving or entering). 

During the course of the evening, Harry learnt that Arabella Figg was old Mrs Figg's daughter. He was surprised, at first, to hear that Mrs Figg had ties to the wizarding world. 'So does that mean that Mrs Figg is a witch?' he asked.

'Oh dear me, no,' Arabella replied, 'I'm muggle-born. My mother agreed to look out for you, though, whilst you were at Privet Drive,' she added.

'Ah,' Harry said. This explained a lot, really, like how she had never been surprised to learn of the strange things Harry had done at school, and why the pictures of her dozens of cats never moved. 

Remus, Mundungus (who preferred to be called Gus for short), and Arabella stayed for supper, but left soon after. Sirius and Harry thanked them and watched them leave before retiring.

**

Time flew by, and before Harry knew it, it was July 30, the day before his 15th birthday. The day came and went, and neither Sirius nor Harry said anything about the next day being Harry's birthday. Nobody ever usually gave a fig that it was his birthday anyhow, so he wasn't exactly used to bringing it up in conversation. The next day dawned bright and sunny, and when Harry woke, he found a school owl bearing his list of supplies for the next term, but nothing more. He was more than a little disappointed at not having received even a card from his school friends, and trudged downstairs for breakfast in a less-than-excited mood.

He met with Sirius for breakfast, but even then, Sirius didn't so much as say "Happy Birthday." They carried on a dull conversation about the weather and what new supplies Harry would need for school, including workout robes, trainers, and various textbooks. But still, Harry did not bring up his birthday. He was feeling down right glum when Sirius left for work, promising to be home around noon. Since the wards had been erected, Harry was allowed to spend time on the grounds, as long as he did not leave the boundaries. He wandered out to the garden, and took a seat on one of the benches. He stared at the colourful blooms, brooding on how it could be that everyone he knew had forgotten about his birthday. The day wore on, the sun turning his skin a few shades darker, and bringing out the light freckles across the bridge of his nose. He was so absorbed in his gloomy thoughts that he didn't notice the people entering the grounds shortly before noon, and certainly didn't notice that Sirius was out front, welcoming and directing them to the house. 

A few minutes later, Sirius came out to the garden and tapped Harry on the shoulder. 'Have you been out here all day?' he asked.

'Yes,' Harry answered, 'I like it out here.'

'Hmm,' Sirius murmured. 'Well, would you like to come inside for a birthday lunch?'

'What?' Harry asked. Sirius remembered!

'C'mon, you didn't think I forgot, did you?' He asked with a laugh as they walked back towards the house.

'Erm… of course not!' Harry replied.

The second Harry crossed the threshold, he was greeted by a loud shout of 'Surprise!' from the large group of people assembled in the entrance hall.

'Wow!' Harry said, looking at the people gathered in the hall, who were now rushing up to say hi and wish him a happy birthday. All his friends from school were there, including all the Gryffindor fifth years, Ginny, Fred, George, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, and Katie Bell. Harry was shocked when Oliver Wood, the old quidditch captain for Gryffindor, came up and pumped his hand, eagerly wishing him a Happy Birthday and offering his condolences at Harry's broken leg. 

Sirius herded everyone out to the quidditch pitch, where there was a stereo blaring out popular wizard bands, and tables arranged with hamburgers, various condiments, fruits, crisps, and loads of tasty desserts. They ate picnic style, on blankets that had been spread out across the lush grass of the playing field. Oliver Wood was just explaining some of the finer points of a complicated quidditch manoeuvre, when suddenly a loud squawking could be heard over the Starknaked Witches' (a popular band of Canadian wizards) latest hit. All eyes turned to the far end of the field, where Fred and George Weasley were doubled over, laughing at Ron, who was gobsmacked and had clapped a hand to his mouth and was staring daggers at his brothers. 

'Don't worry, Ronnikins,' said George, 'It's only temporary!' 

'Yeah,' Fred agreed, 'it should wear off in a few minutes. Go on, then, say something else!' The twins broke out in new waves of laughter as Ron steadfastly refused to do anything of the sort. Ron's face was red to the roots, and he looked as though he was trying his hardest to melt into the ground.

George stood, grabbing an innocent-looking basket from the ground beside him. 'You, too, can be the life of any party, with Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, on sale now!' he said, and began to walk around showing off his and Fred's collection of homemade gags, pranks, and tricks. There were fake wands, Canary Creams, Tonne-Tongue Toffees, Squawkers ('Beautifully modelled by Ron, moments ago!'), along with various other tricks, including Krazy Kolours Magical Hair Dye, which looked like a simple bottle of hair tonic and turned your hair any number of odd colours.

Harry received more gifts in that one birthday than he'd received in all his previous birthdays combined, not to mention had the best time he'd ever had on his birthday! He nattered on with his friends about this and that, catching up on what had been happening over their summers. As it grew dark, Sirius conjured tiny coloured lanterns to light the field as the guests left. Harry stood beside Sirius and thanked his friends as they passed, until each one had left. Then he turned to Sirius. 

'Thank you so much, Sirius! That was the best birthday of my whole life!' he said, smiling and giving Sirius friendly embrace whilst trying to balance on his crutches.

'No problem,' Sirius replied, smiling. ''Bout time you had a proper birthday!'

So yes, that's it for chapter nine. Thanks to all the readers who clamoured for more! I'm quite sorry that it took me so long to post this, but I'm moving soon and there is much to be done. I'll try to be quicker with chapter ten, but I'm not making any promises! @_@ Anyhow, if you have any comments or suggestions for further chapters, or revisions (basically anything but hateful flames), you can send them to my e-mail address ([icklebugger1983@yahoo.co.uk )][1], or you can leave an e-mail address in your review and I'll get back to you. Now go on, fill in the pretty blue box at the foot! Ü

   [1]: mailto:icklebugger1983@yahoo.co.uk)



	10. At Ron's House

**Harry Potter and Gryffindor's Secret**

**Chapter 10: At Ron's House**

**By: Lin-z**

** **

A/N: So sorry it took me so long to post this! I've been moving and doing a lot of beta-reading for other people, so it took me longer than is usual to write this. Most of this chapter is thanks to all of you for the ideas! But really, enough of my ramblings, go on and read the story. O_o

Disclaimer is the same, I own none of it.. Except Harry's and Ron's Animagus forms! Ü

** **

The rest of the summer past reasonably well. Learning to Apparate made moving about quite a bit easier on Harry, as he no longer had to negotiate the stairs in Black Manor. A couple of weeks following his birthday party, Harry received a letter from Ron inviting him to spend a fortnight with Ron and his family in Ottery St. Catchpole. 

'So, can I go?' Harry asked Sirius, after telling him that he had been invited to Ron's.

'I don't see why not,' Sirius replied. 'I'll ask Dumbledore about it this afternoon, and I'll tell you when I get back.'

'Thanks Sirius,' Harry said, 'See you later!'

'Bye Harry,' Sirius replied, and with a small pop, Sirius disappeared.

This summer, Harry was faced with a new predicament. Boredom. At the Dursley's, so many chores to do, coupled with avoiding Dudley, had never really allowed him a lot of free time to waste. Then at Hogwarts, his free time was usually spent in the company of Ron and/or Hermione, so he wasn't quite used to days upon days of nothing to do. Under normal circumstances he would have taken to practising Quidditch; however, these were not normal circumstances. Instead, Harry had found some quite interesting Defence Against the Dark Arts materials within Sirius' library, and had taken to looking through them for interesting ideas.

Harry closed his eyes tight and imagined opening them on the first storey landing. He heard a popping noise, and when he opened his eyes, he was standing about one metre from the stairs. How he loved being able to do that! He smiled to himself and wandered over to the Defence section. There were several muggle Martial Arts books there, but what really piqued his fancy were the books of curses and magical weapons. He selected a scarlet covered volume without a title, and used what he had learnt in his Apparating lessons to move it to the table. 

He sat before the book and lifted the cover, sneezing as the dust filled the air. When the dust had settled, he was able to see that this was a book on anti-dark myths and legends. He was about to close it and return it to the shelf when the word "Gryffindor" caught his eye. 

_'The Order of the Phoenix was established by Sir Godric Gryffindor himself, in 1090, to set up securities against evils present and forthcoming...'_

Wondering what the Order of the Phoenix was, he continued.

'_Shortly after the founding of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, several disputes arose between Gryffindor and co-founder Salazar Slytherin, leading to Slytherin's eventual departure. Slytherin built forces with the Dark Arts, and became quite a formidable foe to the Hogwarts group. Gryffindor, along with Lady Rowena Ravenclaw and Helga Hufflepuff, formed the Order of the Phoenix, whose tasks, among others, may have included the protection of the Green Flame Torch. The Torch was a creation of Gryffindor's. It was intended to be used by either himself or an heir, and supposedly had the ability to utterly destroy even the most powerful Dark wizard, regardless of immortality endeavours. The Order of the Phoenix also...'_

From there the book went on to describe the various duties of the Order, and gave brief biographies of each of its members. Harry paused in his reading, suddenly startled by something he had read. His eyes scanned up the page to the paragraph about the Torch. The book had said that the Green Flame Torch had power over immortality endeavours, which meant that, if used against Voldemort, it would destroy him. Harry was astounded - somewhere, there lay the means to destroy his foe once and for all, and one thing was certain. He had to find out all he could about the Torch and Gryffindor's heir before Voldemort had a chance to fulfil whatever scheme he was concocting. 

**

That evening, over dinner, Harry decided to ask Sirius what he knew about the Order of the Phoenix. 'Have you ever heard of the Order of the Phoenix?' He asked.

'Where did you hear about that?' Sirius said, by way of response, taking a bite of steak and kidney pie.

'Oh, just in some book I came across today. So, have you?' Harry probed.

'Yeah,' Sirius replied. 'They were a group of Light wizards. I believe the group was established in the times of Godric Gryffindor himself.'

Harry finished chewing. 'Well, are they still around today?'

Sirius looked thoughtful. 'Hmm,' he said. 'Yes, they are. I'm going to be honest with you, but please promise me you won't tell anyone, not even Ron or Hermione.'

'Okay, I promise,' Harry said, looking slightly taken aback.

'As a matter of fact, I'm a member. When Voldemort first rose to power, about twenty years ago, I believe, it was your grandfather that had the Order reinstated. Your father and I were both members, as were Remus, Arabella, and Gus. I'm sure you know a great many others in the Order, as well. Anyhow, when your grandfather was assassinated, Dumbledore took his place as head of the Order. It was disassembled for thirteen years, and we're now in the process of gathering some of our scattered members,' Sirius said, careful not to give out too much information.

'So that's what Dumbledore sent you to do after the Third Task!' Harry said, realisation dawning on his face.

'Aye,' Sirius replied. At this point, he decided a change of topic was in order. 'By the way, Dumbledore said it would be fine if you went to Ron's home; how does tomorrow morning sound?'

Harry beamed. 'That sounds just corking!' 

'I'll need to go with you; set up some temporary wards around the place, so we'll leave at half past ten,' Sirius said, tapping the now empty dishes with his wand to clean them. 'Mind you, there's to be no Apparating while your there, unless you obtain permission from Mr or Mrs Weasley.'

**

Harry and Sirius arrived at the Weasley's the next morning via Floo Powder, stepping out to a scene of mayhem that was becoming more and more common in the Weasley household. The walls and floor of their cosy kitchen were covered in bits of a fuzzy blue substance that appeared to be growing rather rapidly. Mr Weasley was there, feeling the top of his head as a patch of the blue hair-like substance spread across his scalp. He looked as though he were trying to hold his laughter for the sake of his wife, who was shouting at George. Fred did not seem to be in the room, but Ron and Ginny were, and both were laughing madly at the blue hair sprouting from their father's head and from various points around the kitchen. Nobody seemed to notice as Harry and Sirius stepped from the fireplace.

'Sorry, Mum,' George said as soon as his mother paused for breath. 'Really, I didn't know it was going to explode like that!' He tried valiantly not to smirk as he caught a glimpse of Harry and Sirius, both of whom were laughing silently at the commotion before them.

'That's no excuse, mister! If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times, no more Wheezes in the house!' She said, beginning to regain a bit of her composure. 'Come to think of it, I reckon I know what the problem is,' she mused. 'You lads have entirely too much time on your hands. I want you out de-gnoming the garden, as soon as you've cleaned this mess, mind, and I'll think of something for Fred when he wakes up.' She was turning round to do something else when she caught sight of the two bemused visitors still standing in front of the fireplace. 'Harry, dear, and Sirius! How pleasant to see the both of you,' she said. 

At this, Ron, Ginny, and Mr Weasley turned in their seats. Ron jumped up to give Harry a friendly slap on the shoulder, and Mr Weasley stood to shake Sirius' hand. Ginny also got up and gave Sirius and Harry polite little hugs, saying hello to both of them before excusing herself to her room.

'Hi Harry!' Ron said. 'Mum's got a special room for you down here, so you don't have to bugger with the stairs. Here, let's put your stuff away,' he added, taking Harry's bag from Sirius and giving Harry a meaningful sort of look.

'What's up,' Harry said, as soon as they were out of earshot from the others. 

'Ooh, you won't believe it, Harry! This is really excellent, look,' Ron said, pulling a small book from his trouser pocket. It had a dark brown dragonhide cover, and emblazoned across the front was the word "Animagus." 'Go on then,' Ron said excitedly, 'open it!'

Harry opened the book. Behind the title page was an introduction, advising the reader to use caution and only attempt to follow its directions under strict Ministry observance. He looked up to Ron with wide eyes. 'Is this really what it looks like?' He asked eagerly.

'Yep,' Ron smiled widely. 'I found it in the cellar - I think Fred and George tried to use it and gave up, but what if we could do it!' 

Harry grinned deviously. 'I reckon we should, Ron!' 

Sirius knocked on the door and poked his head through. 'Bye, Harry, see you in a week,' he said.

'Bye Sirius,' Harry replied, a look of innocence upon his face. Sirius smiled knowingly but proceeded to shut the door anyway. 

'Okay, Ron, so where do we start?' Harry asked, once his godfather had left the room. 

'Man, that was so cool! If my mum knew I was up to something like this I'd be in trouble faster than you can say "it wasn't me!"' Ron said.

'Yeah, well, I think Sirius would actually be disappointed if I didn't get into at least some trouble,' Harry said, smiling.

The two boys worked long and hard during the two weeks that Harry spent at the Burrow. Becoming an Animagus first required the use of a special potion that would turn you into the animal most suited to you, followed by fine tuning the ability to change into that animal at will. When Mrs Weasley would get suspicious, they would simply tell her that they were working on a project for Potions, and it was very important. She would always smile happily and say how nice it was to see the two of them working so hard, especially during the summer. By the time they and Ginny got to Diagon Alley to meet up with Hermione (Fred and George preferred to meet up with their own friends), they had the potion nearly done, and simply needed a few more ingredients. The only problem was that they didn't think they would be able to find them in the apothecary at Diagon Alley. Harry had volunteered to go to Knockturn Alley to fetch them, but Ron had firmly disagreed, saying that it would be much too dangerous, especially for Harry Potter with a broken leg. Harry had to admit that he agreed, so he offered to lend Ron his Invisibility Cloak in order to go purchase the needed supplies. Ron accepted. 

'I need to use the toilet,' Ron said to Harry, Ginny, and Hermione, standing up from the table. He put his hand over the cloak in his pocket.

'Okay,' Hermione and Ginny said. 

'See you in a bit,' Harry added.

Ron stepped from the ice cream shop where he and his friends had been and headed in the direction of the public toilets. Instead of going inside, however, he stole around them, making sure no one was following him, and pulled the cloak from his pocket. He threw it over his shoulders, making certain his whole form was covered before stepping out and making his way to the other side of the street to Knockturn Alley.

Luckily, the apothecary on Knockturn was directly behind it's Diagon counterpart. Ron remained invisible as he selected the ingredients and paid the man behind the counter, briefly explaining that he had his reasons for invisibility. The man didn't seem inclined to pay him any mind; he was happy as long as he got the required galleon. Ron hurried back to the boy's toilet, carefully securing the tiny satchel in one pocket and the cloak in the other. He smiled and stepped out, heading back to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.

The four of them had an enjoyable afternoon, Harry and Ron secretly excited about their Animagus potion. They had decided to tell Hermione only if it worked, so they didn't say anything about it whilst she was with them. Hermione actually found she had fun talking "Girl talk" with Ginny, and rather enjoyed it. They gathered all their school supplies, including the required training robes, quills, parchment, and textbooks, and by the time they had all their new things purchased, it was twilight and Ron's and Hermione's parents were beckoning them home. Hermione said goodbye to the three others, and left to join her parents.

'What'd you get?' Ginny asked, once Hermione had gone and her parents were off dealing with the twins.

'What do you mean?' Ron asked her.

'Come on, Ron, I know you weren't using the toilets for fifteen minutes. What were you getting?' 

'Oh, erm, well, it was nothing, really,' he said, doing a horrible job at lying. 

'Sure,' Ginny said, 'And Fred and George were just having fun. Really - what is it?' She persisted.

'It's just this,' Ron said. Harry spun around to look, shocked that he would show Ginny, but was relieved to find that Ron was holding up a quill.

'You got all secretive over a _quill_?' exclaimed Ginny.

'It's not just any quill!' Ron protested, even though in reality, it was. 'It's a special quill, one that will… um… help me… write stuff,' he said, pretending to be embarrassed.

'What _kind _of stuff?' Ginny inquired in a sing-song voice, sniggering at her brother. 

'Nothing! Leave me alone, will you?' he said to her.

'Fine,' she huffed, folding her arms and hurrying to catch her parents up.

Harry turned to Ron. 'That was great!'

'Thanks,' Ron said, a smug expression on his face. 

**

'I can't wait 'til this stuff is done,' Ron said, referring to the potion brewing in the big pewter cauldron in front of them. They had returned from Diagon Alley two days prior, and the potion was close to being ready. It looked exactly as the book said it should at this point, which was very reassuring to Harry and Ron, as they weren't exactly experts in the field of potion brewing.

'Me either,' Harry agreed. 'How much longer?'

Ron looked at his watch. 'Another minute,' he said, resuming his stirring.

'Wonderful,' Harry said. A minute later, Ron and Harry each filled a goblet with the bubbly purple Potion. 

'Cheers,' they both said, clinking their glasses before turning them bottoms-up and draining them. The Potion was warm and smooth, and had the flavour of cheese mixed with honey and liver. Harry had to admit it was one of the oddest combinations of flavours he had ever experienced, but not altogether bad. The feeling that followed was as though he had taken a lightning-speed version of the Polyjuice Potion. Harry felt his nose becoming long and hard, and his body becoming small and light. Before he knew what precisely was happening, he was on the floor, looking up at a cellar room that was suddenly much larger than he remembered it being. Looking down, he saw that he had turned to some class of a bird, with bright crimson plumage. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out were a few musical notes not amounting to anything intelligible. 

Harry looked over to where Ron had been, and saw the Gryffindor lion in his place. It had slightly redder hair than most lions he had seen in pictures, but he supposed that must be Ron's distinguishing feature. He stood in awe - the lion signified everything Ron seemed to want - it was brave, loyal, and represented something that no body in his family could do. Harry wondered what exactly he himself had turned into, when, of a sudden, he felt a pop and he was back to his normal form.

'Wow, Ron, that was great!' Harry said, once again able to use his own voice. 

'What did I turn into?' Ron asked. 'I was only able to see that I had paws.'

'You were a lion!' Harry exclaimed. 'You looked exactly like the Gryffindor lion,' Harry added.

Ron looked pleased. 'You were a Phoenix,' He told Harry. 'It was cool - you looked just like a normal Phoenix except you had green eyes and a white mark on your forehead.'

Both boys were quite happy with the results of their hard work. They scraped the rest of the Potion into a jar for Hermione, sealing it before taking it back upstairs. Harry had been given permission to Apparate at the Burrow, but preferred not to when he was with Ron. They had just reached Harry's room when a small bell alerted them that there was someone at the fireplace. They hid the jar and walked to the kitchen, to find Mrs Weasley admitting Sirius. 

'Ready to go home?' he asked. Harry found himself surprised at how quickly the fortnight had passed, but nodded and popped back to his room, returning a bit later balancing his crutches and the duffle bag on his shoulder. Sirius stepped forward and grabbed it for him, and after Harry had profusely thanked Mrs Weasley for her hospitality and promised Ron to see him in a couple of days, he threw his pinch of Floo Powder into the fireplace and said, 'Black Manor,' disappearing in the green flames. A moment later, Sirius appeared behind Harry in the parlour of their house. 

'How did it go?' Sirius asked, coming around to sit in one of the armchairs.

'We had a great time,' Harry replied, taking a seat across from Sirius.

'No, no, not that… The Animagus Potion!' Sirius said, smiling at Harry.

'How'd you know we did that?' Harry asked.

'Only because I was the one that gave Fred and George the book. I enchanted it to make it seem blank to the twins, so I knew that Ron would get possession of it somehow. So, how did it go?' He asked again.

Harry smiled. 'It was really excellent! Ron turned into a lion and I turned into a Phoenix,' he said enthusiastically.

Sirius was shocked. Those were the two rarest forms of Animagi there were, and it was amazing to him that his own godson and his godson's best friend had taken them. They both represented the most admirable traits in wizards, and thus far there had only been one lion Animagus in history; Harry was the first Phoenix ever.

'What's wrong?' Harry asked, misinterpreting Sirius' awestruck appearance.

'Nothing,' he said, 'It's just that those are two very special forms; not many Animagi out there like that.'

Harry smiled, quite pleased.

So there it is, chapter 10! I hope you all enjoyed it, it was fun to write, and, well, a great deal of it was based on comments I'd received in your reviews. See, I do listen to you! Ü So, if you have an ideas for my story, don't be afraid to post it, and you might see it in a future chapter! So have a nice day, all of you, and don't forget to leave a **REVIEW**! *(see, I'm a poet too, albeit not a very good one!)*


	11. Hogwarts Again

Harry Potter and Gryffindor's Secret:

Harry Potter and Gryffindor's Secret:

Chapter 11: Hogwarts Again

By: Lin-z

A/N: Harry and Ron are not full-force Animagi yet - the potion simply enables them to make the initial transformation, allowing them to concentrate more fully on their transformations in the future. Also, I know it's been a terribly long time since I posted last, but I'm all moved now, so I should be able to make more frequent additions! Ü 

Disclaimer: Nope, not mine! :)

Voldemort slammed his fist against the gilded armrest of his throne. 'Are you telling me you still haven't found that blasted book?' He shouted bitingly at the Death Eater cowering before him. '_Crucio!_' he shouted, pointing his wand at the figure prone to the floor.

Harry stared at the mass of black as it began to writhe horribly on the cold stone floor. Piteous moaning filled the dank air, and Harry's scar, which had been painful to start with, erupted with a fresh spurt of agony. 

With a flick of his wand, Voldemort lifted the curse. The Death Eater lifted his head, but remained on the floor. 'I'm sorry, my Lord,' he whimpered. 

'You _will _have that book by the next time you are here, or I will not be so kind,' Voldemort hissed, his serpentine red eyes narrowing in disgust. 'Now be gone,' he spat. Voldemort pointed his wand at the figure before him. '_Expelliarmus_,' he said, and the figure went flying from the room, landing with a sickening thud in the corridor outside. Death Eaters were never allowed wands in the presence of the Dark Lord.

Harry stood there, not exactly sure as to what was happening. He supposed that the book they had spoken of was the book of Godric Gryffindor, which they had been searching for the last time. He gave a start as he heard his name.

'Potter, come here,' Voldemort hissed.

Harry stared: however could Voldemort see him? No one had ever seen him before, had they?

'Are you going to come on your own or must I assist you?' Voldemort whispered a few choice words and Harry felt himself being pulled from his hiding spot to the place before the dais where the Death Eater had stood.

Harry's scar was aching abominably, growing in intensity as Voldemort stood and walked to him. The tall, snake-like man raised a long white finger and ran it along the side of Harry's jaw, causing Harry to wince in pain as the burning sensation ran from his ear to the base of his chin.

'Thought you could just drop in, did you?' Voldemort hissed. 'We've got great plans in store for you, young man.'

Harry was very frightened - if Voldemort could see him and touch him, could he curse him as well? Just then Voldemort reached out and shook Harry's shoulder hard. 

'Harry!' a voice said. That didn't sound like Voldemort! Harry opened an eye to see Sirius' face before him in the dark. Sirius stopped shaking Harry when he saw that the boy had woken. Harry breathed a sigh of relief - his scar was still burning, but at least the dream was over.

'Harry, are you okay?' Sirius asked, worry lining his brow. 

Harry wiped the cold sweat from his face and put his glasses on. His forehead was still throbbing, but the pain had died down quite a bit since waking up. 'Yeah,' he said, 'I just had a dream.'

Sirius sat back, waiting for Harry to continue on his own. After a moment, Harry looked up again. 'It was odd; this time, Voldemort could see me. He was angry with one of his Death Eaters because he couldn't find some book he was looking for. After he had done Cruciatus and sent him from the room, he called me to him,' Harry paused. 'He touched my face, and it actually hurt.'

'Well,' Sirius said, 'you're going back to school in the morning. You can tell Dumbledore about it when you get there.' 

'Yes,' Harry agreed, 'I'll be sure to do just that.' 

Sirius reached out and took off Harry's glasses, folding them and setting them back on the night table. 'For now, though, I suggest you go back to sleep. I'm sure you and your friends are in for a long day tomorrow.' 

'G'night, Sirius,' Harry said, settling back under the sheets.

'G'night,' Sirius replied, patting Harry on the shoulder and leaving the room.

*

'Ron!' Harry shouted, seeing a flash of red hair across the busy platform. 

'Harry!' Two voices shouted at once. Ron and Hermione came barrelling at him, barely able to stop in time to keep from knocking him off his crutches. 'Hi Ron, hi Hermione!' Harry said.

Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Sirius made their way to the train. They said their goodbyes, Ron and Harry were both a bit embarrassed when Mrs Weasley gave them each a kiss on the cheek, and climbed aboard the Hogwarts Express to embark upon their fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

*

The three students gave their families one final wave before the train pulled away from the platform. They came to a compartment about midway through the train; it was mostly empty, apart from a hunched figure by the window. 

'Pardon me, but would it be okay if we sit here?' Harry asked. The figure straitened and turned around to reveal 

'Professor Lupin!?' All three of them shouted at once. The professor smiled. 

'Hi everyone,' he said, motioning for them to take seats, which they did. They looked at him expectantly and he continued. 'Dumbledore wants a professor on the train to make sure things go smoothly,' Professor Lupin explained. 

'Ah,' Hermione said. 'So, are you going to be a professor again?'

'Well, I'm afraid you'll just have to wait and see,' Lupin said with an evasive grin. 'Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to make certain everyone is in their compartment.' With that, the professor, still wearing the shabby attire he had worn in their third year, stood and strode from the compartment, letting the door slide shut behind him with a small hiss.

'Wow, Lupin's back,' Said Ron happily. 

'Yeah, I wonder what he's going to teach; d'you reckon it'll be Defence Against the Dark Arts again?' Hermione pondered.

Harry thought for a bit, then said, 'I dunno; he never said anything about it to me over the summer.'

'Oh Harry, that reminds me - how was your summer with Sirius?' asked Hermione.

Harry and Ron stole mischievous glances at one another. 'It was brilliant!' Harry said, 'except for he whole breaking my leg thing, it was jolly good fun!' Harry leaned over to Ron and whispered, 'D'you reckon we should tell her now?'

Ron nodded with a grin, and said, 'Hermione, have you ever wondered what it would be like to be an Animagus?'

'Well sure, doesn't everyone? I mean, hey ... what are you two up to?' She said, cottoning on.

Harry and Ron's faces split into devious grins. 'We came up with a little something over the summer that you just might find interesting,' Harry answered.

'Yeah,' Ron continued, 'We found a book on how to become Animagi, and the first step is to drink this special "Cambiacious Concoction" - it transforms you into the animal that best suits you so that when you begin your formal Animagus training, you have somewhere to start from. Anyhow, we brewed a bit of this over the summer, and we saved some for you.'

Hermione looked extremely doubtful. 'Are you you've done it right?' She asked. This completely shocked both Harry and Ron. They had been expecting a stern lecture on the dangers of human transformation, especially by untrained wizards; that she had merely doubted their potion making abilities threw them completely off track. 

After a moment, Harry said, 'Well, yeah, Ron and I had some and it worked fine for us!' 

Hermione smiled. 'Well, then I think it's a brilliant idea! Only, we'll have to go someplace private to try it out.'

They had barely started discussing which would be the best location when the compartment door slid open and Professor Lupin returned.

The rest of the train ride was uneventful, but enjoyable. They were joined at various points by a number of people, including the Weasley twins and their friend Lee Jordan (now seventh years), Neville, Dean and Seamus, the Patil twins and Lavender Brown (Lavender was flirting shamelessly with Ron, who had turned an bright shade of red). 

Malfoy et company paid them a brief visit as well; Malfoy's efforts to taunt Harry about "falling off his broom" (for of course Draco _knew_ the truth), fell on deaf ears, as nobody in the compartment paid him any mind. After a few minutes, he left the compartment skulking, and everyone remaining in the compartment broke into fits of laughter at his expression when he had been ignored. 

Shortly after dusk they arrived at the Hogsmeade station. They gave Hagrid a wave ('Firs' years over here, On'y four ter a boat, mind!), and followed the queue to the horse-less carriages. They had no sooner arrived at the front entrance than a very flustered looking Professor McGonagall pulled Harry aside. 

'Go on now, Harry will catch you up,' the Professor said to Hermione and Ron, who then gave Harry an encouraging wave and disappeared in the crowd surging towards the doors.

'Harry, Professor Dumbledore has requested a meeting with you; you are to see him directly following the Welcoming feast,' she said.

Harry nodded, confused. 'All right, thank you professor,' he said. Professor McGonagall clapped Harry's shoulder gently and returned to her job of directing the returning students. 

'What was that all about?' Ron asked when Harry had taken a seat next to him at the Gryffindor table a few minutes later.

'Oh, Professor Dumbledore wants to see me after supper,' Harry answered.

'Is something wrong?' asked Ginny, who was sitting across the table from them.

'No, I just had a dream last night and Sirius reckons I should tell Dumbledore about it.'

'Who's that?' asked Dean, from further down the table, pointing up to the High Table where the professors were seated. There was an unfamiliar face; seated between Professor Sinistra and McGonagall's empty chair was a thin man with spiky brown hair and dark blue eyes. He wore a scowl that seemed vaguely familiar and looked as though something with a particularly foul odour was just below his nose. He had a bit of a hooked nose, and his brow was furrowed in a look of utmost contempt. He looked as though he may have been a handsome man were it not for his disposition.

'I dunno,' answered Ron, 'but he sure doesn't look very friendly, does he?

'Wonder where Snape went, I don't see him up there, do you?' Hermione asked.

Harry looked along the line of professors, and, sure enough, there was no Professor Snape. 'Maybe he's been sacked at last!' Ron said in an excited whisper. Harry, remembering what he had done for Sirius, decided to say something in the professor's defence. 

'He wasn't _all_ bad,' Harry said. He looked to the table, where the new professor was seated. Harry wondered to himself if that wasn't Professor Snape in his new physiognomy, but decided not to say anything about it to his friends, who were looking at him, utterly gobsmacked. 

Seamus was about to comment when the doors slammed open, and Professor McGonagall entered, followed by a long line of frightened first years. She placed the Sorting Hat on the old rickety stool and stood back. The hat gave a small shake, and the rip in its brim opened wide.

__

I am not a bowler,

A top hat I am not.

As I'm sure that you all know,

I am the Hogwarts Sorting Hat!

Try me on and you will find

I know just what's on your mind.

Just what house should you be in?

Should you be in Gryffindor, where dwell the brave and true?

Or are you cunning and ambitious, suit for Slytherin?

You could be in Hufflepuff, where they are ethical and kind,

Or perhaps you are a Ravenclaw, for those of a quick mind.

All of these are noble

With their own histories

I'll show you where you need to be

Based on your thoughts and deeds!

Professor McGonagall began to read off their names one by one, until each of the new first years had been sorted. The Gryffindors wound up with an amazing fourteen new students, capping the other houses by quite a bit. As Dumbledore stood from his position at the head of the staff table, the noise in the hall died to little more than a low murmur. 'Welcome to yet another year, students! I trust you've all had plenty of time away and are ready to fill your heads once more (at this there were scattered groans and many rolled eyes)! And now, we feast!' The wizened headmaster waved his hand and the feast magically appeared before the starving students. 

All the students at Hogwarts tucked in, thoroughly enjoying the feast spread before them. When all had had their fill, Dumbledore stood once more.

'Alas, before you go, I have some words for you. The Forbidden Forest is _still_ off limits. There is a list of forbidden objects located in Filch's office; feel free to have a look. Also, I'd like to introduce to you a few staff members who will be joining us this year: first is an old favourite, Professor Remus Lupin, back to teach Duelling, which is a new course to be offered to third years and above. Second, I'd like to introduce to you Professor Mohomri Harcourt, who will be taking Professor Moody's place in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Also, Professor Mundungus Fletcher will be your new Potions master, as Professor Snape is on sabbatical this year (cheers). And now, off to bed!'

The headmaster left the room, and the prefects stood to begin leading their houses to their common rooms. Harry bade Ron and Hermione goodnight, explaining to them that he had to see Professor Dumbledore. He made his way to the High Table where Dumbledore was speaking with Professor Lupin.

'Ah, excellent, Harry. If you'll follow me please,' Dumbledore said, saying goodnight to Professor Lupin and guiding Harry out of the Great Hall. Harry followed the aged wizard up the many flights of stairs to the Headmaster's office. 'Lemon sherbet,' Dumbledore said once they had reached the entrance to his office. The gargoyle sprang aside, granting the professor and Harry entrance to the chambers beyond. Harry followed Dumbledore up the moving staircase, and took a seat in one of the great over-stuffed chairs before Dumbledore's desk. Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, must have been close to a Burning Day, as he had very little left of the brilliant crimson plumage phoenixes were known for. In fact, he looked quite ill.

'So, Harry, I hear you've had another vision of Voldemort,' Dumbledore said, distracting Harry from the unfortunate bird.

Harry nodded. 'Yes sir, I did. Only, this one was different from the others.'

'Oh? How so?' Dumbledore asked. Harry could have sworn he had seen an almost hopeful look pass across the headmaster's face, but then it was gone and Harry couldn't be sure.

'Well,' Harry began, 'Voldemort could see me in this one. Not only that, but he touched me as well, and it burned,' Harry said, pointing to the faint red line running from the base of his ear to the point of his chin. 

Dumbledore looked contemplative. 'Hmm, that is odd,' he said. 'Do you remember what he said to you?' 

'All he said was that he had plans for me; Sirius woke me before he could say anything more,' Harry said. 

'I see … Harry, do you know what an Invocator is?' Dumbledore played thoughtfully with his long white beard.

'Erm, no, I don't think so,' Harry answered.

'Yes, I believe that's sixth year Divination … Anyhow, an Invocator is someone who can summon another person to appear at will. There has never yet been an Invocator who can summon anyone in physical form; anyone's ever been able to do, as far as I was aware of, is to summon another's subconscious. Apparently, Voldemort's been able to go a bit further,' Dumbledore said.

'So, Voldemort can have people visit him in their dreams at will? Can he hurt others, too?' Harry was finding this line of conversation to be very confusing. Too much food and not enough sleep were giving him a befuddled feeling.

'Yes, Voldemort can summon the subconscious of any sleeping person, however, I don't believe that he can cause any harm to anyone besides you. You're aware of the connection you two share,' Dumbledore explained. Harry just nodded. 'Yes, well, I believe that's enough for one evening,' Dumbledore said. 'Take this with you,' he said, handing Harry a flask of purplish potion, 'It's a Dreamless Sleep Potion; if Voldemort Invokes you tonight, take that when you wake up, and see me when it wears off. By the way, how soon until the doctor removes your cast?' 

Harry smiled. 'This Saturday,' he said happily.

'Wonderful,' Dumbledore said. 'Now, off to bed with you!'

Harry left Dumbledore's office and made his way to the Gryffindor Tower. He passed through the dark and empty Commons room to the dormitory, now with a plaque that read "Fifth Years," and fell gratefully into bed.

A/N: So, did you like it? Hate it? Let me know! Constructive criticism will be highly appreciated; flames will be … oh never-mind, just don't flame, okay? Great! The next chapter should be out sooner than this one. I just finished a very long, very hectic move, and although I'm taking summer school at University, I'll have a good deal more time now. Yay! Oh, and thank you ever so much for all the reviews! I never expected so many - it's brilliant! 


	12. Vinculum Obscuro

Harry Potter and Gryffindor's Secret ****

Harry Potter and Gryffindor's Secret

Chapter 12: Vinculum Obscuro

By: Lin-z

A/N: Hi everyone, I'm back! You've been great reviewers so far; I love them all! Keep it up, you're all awesome!

****

MAJOR THANKS goes to [~*Dumbledore's True Love*~][1] -- without her I'd still be stuck neck deep in writer's block! Ü Go read her stories (after you're done with this!), they're great!

Disclaimer: well, I'm pretty sure that by now you know I don't own Harry Potter, so I think this will be the final disclaimer - it works for all future chapters. 

*

Dumbledore looked up from the mound of Owl Post he had been responding to. It was quite late, and he had no idea who could be behind his door at this time of night. With a small sigh he got up and strode to the door.

'Why, Mr Black! To what do I owe this pleasure?' Dumbledore said, standing aside to grant Sirius entrance to his grand office.

Sirius stepped forward, a rather disturbed look upon his face. 'It's about Harry,' he said.

'Ah yes… Do have a seat,' Dumbledore said, motioning to one of the fluffy armchairs before his desk. Dumbledore took a seat as well. 'I hear he had a bit of run-in with Voldemort last night.'

'A bit, yes,' Sirius said dryly. 'As you know, I'm not one for much small talk. What in Merlin's name happened?' he demanded.

Dumbledore twirled a finger in his long silver beard thoughtfully. 'I suppose you've heard of Invocators,' he said.

'Yes, of course, but isn't that only supposed to summon one's subconscious? Voldemort wouldn't be able to harm Harry just by Invoking him, would he?'

'With ordinary Invocation, no,' Dumbledore replied, 'but Voldemort has been able to take it one step further.'

At that moment, they were interrupted by a knock at the door. Dumbledore stood up and proceeded open it. Sirius turned around in his chair to see who had just entered. 'Remus! Come in, come in,' Dumbledore said, motioning Remus to a chair.

'Sorry to interrupt, Professor,' Remus began, 'but I think there's a bit of trouble in the Gryffindor fifth-year boy's dormitory,' he said, placing a rumpled piece of parchment on Professor Dumbledore's desk.

'Yes, Sirius and I were just discussing that, as a matter of fact. Perhaps it would do for you to hear this as well,' Dumbledore said, scanning the map knowingly. 'Have a seat.'

Remus took a seat next to Sirius and looked to Professor Dumbledore. 'You've heard of Invocators, no?' Dumbledore said.

'Yes,' Remus said, throwing a curious glance at Sirius.

'Well, we have reason to believe that Voldemort has been able to take it one step further,' Dumbledore began. 'Due to the bond that he shares with Harry, Invocation works a bit differently between the two of them, and when Voldemort summons Harry, it's very similar to Harry actually being there in person.'

Sirius stood up in an outrage. 'That yellow bellied _bastard_!' he said. 'Sorry, Professor,' he added, sitting back down. 'Is there anything we can do?'

'That's quite all right,' Dumbledore said, smiling, 'and yes, we're working on a solution. There is a certain, very complex, charm found in the Book of Gryffindor that should be just the thing.'

Sirius jumped up quickly. 'Well, let's do it!' 

'How soon will it be ready?' Remus said, amused at his friend's enthusiasm.

'I think tomorrow night is as soon as we'll be able to perform it,' Dumbledore said. 'What it will do is block the part of the mental connection that connects their subconscious. It will not seal it off entirely, however. In moments of extreme rage, Harry's visions will continue as before, but Voldemort will not be able to summon him at will. 'Dumbledore sat back and folded his hands in his lap. 'The reason we can't do it tonight is that the book cannot be obtained except under strict limitations, and it will take me a good part of the day tomorrow to retrieve it.'

'Excellent,' Sirius said, 'is there anything I can do to help?'

'Yes, actually, I'd like to request yours and Remus' aid in performing the Vinculum Obscuro charm tomorrow,' Dumbledore said.

'Done,' Remus said, standing. Sirius and Remus both shook hands with Dumbledore and left the office.

Once the two younger men had left the office, Dumbledore sank wearily into his seat, staring at the map in front of him and massaging his temples. Things seemed to have quieted down in the dormitories, so he folded up the map and tucked it away.

*

__

… meanwhile …

Ron couldn't sleep. Neville's snores had woken him, but that had been a full ten minutes ago! He rolled over violently and was in the process of throwing a pillow over his head when he heard a new sound, something that didn't sound at all like Neville's restful snores. He sat up and drew the hangings, searching for the source of the pained moans. Through the long windows, shafts of pale moonlight entered and cast shadows upon the beds of his fellow fifth year Gryffindors. All the hangings were drawn, but the sound seemed to be coming from in the direction of Harry's bed. Ron crawled out of bed and slipped into his house shoes. He padded over to Harry's bed and threw back the thick red curtain.

'Harry, Harry! Wake up!' Ron shouted, prodding Harry's shoulder.

With a start, Harry bolted upright. He looked around; there was Ron, looking worried, and from the other beds in the room, the bleary-eyed faces of his friends began to peer out at what had woken them. Harry wiped the sweat from his brow and rubbed his scar.

'Alright, Harry?' Ron asked with concern. 

'Yeah, I'm fine,' Harry said. 'Thanks,' he added.

'What h-h-happened?' Dean said, stifling a yawn and rubbing his eyes.

'I, erm, had a bad dream, I'm okay now,' Harry said. 'You can all go back to bed.'

The other boys went back to bed. Harry drew his curtains and dug around in his night table for the small vial Professor Dumbledore had given him. He wondered vaguely what it would be like to get a normal night's sleep as he dislodged the rubber stopper and swallowed the contents. He had just enough time to set the empty container on the table beside his bed before falling to sleep.

*

'About time you decided to join us, Potter,' Professor Harcourt sneered as Harry entered the classroom.

'Sorry professor,' Harry said. He looked around the room for an empty seat, and discovered that the only vacant desk in the room was directly in front of Draco Malfoy. He frowned and made his way forward, trying to ignore the stares coming from all over the room. He sat down and caught a glance at Ron and Hermione, who gave him sympathetic looks.

'Now, as I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted,' Harcourt said, looking directly at Harry, 'the Krad Stra amulet is a very powerful defence against dark curses. You will each be attempting to construct one of these amulets during this first week of classes. It is my duty to remind you that if you do not follow the instructions to the letter, the results could be disastrous indeed.' 

Harry looked to the Gryffindors on the other side - Hermione looked excited, but Neville looked as though his world was about to come to a screeching halt. 

'It is best to work in pairs in creating the Krad Stra amulets, so if you will please find a partner and begin,' Harcourt said. 

Harry was about to go over to Neville when a hand gripped his shoulder. He looked up to see Draco Malfoy grinning at him slyly. 'Partners?' he asked with a smirk.

Harry looked around, trying to find anyone else, but all the other students had found partners. 'Fine,' he consented grudgingly. The two of them worked in silence for a few minutes. 

'So, read any good _books _lately?' 

'What are you on about, Malfoy?' Harry asked, concentrating hard on a tricky protection charm.

'Oh, I dunno, just wondering if you'd read any books by Gryffindor lately,' Malfoy replied offhandedly.

Harry shot up. 'What are you talking about?' He asked suspiciously.

'Nothing, never mind,' Malfoy said idly, returning to his work.

'No, Malfoy. Tell me.'

Draco raised his eyes. 'Fine, meet me tonight at midnight in the trophy room, and I might decide to tell you then,' he said, busying himself once more.

The two worked together in near silence, never saying more than the necessary 'Pass this,' the entire time. Harry was very relieved when the bell rang, signalling the end of what felt like the longest Defence lesson he'd ever had to sit through. He yawned deeply and stood up.

'Ready for Transfiguration?' Ron said, he and Hermione coming up from behind him.

'Yeah, let's go,' Harry replied, and they set off for Professor McGonagall's classroom. The trio took their seats in the back of the classroom and took out their books, waiting for class to start.

Harry yawned and put his head on the desk. He nearly fell out of his seat when a sharp rapping on the desk a while later brought him abruptly back to reality. 'Potter, I would appreciate it if you would try to stay _awake_ in my class,' McGonagall said. 

'Sorry, Professor,' Harry said, as Professor McGonagall returned to the front of the classroom to resume her lecture amid gales of laughter.

As McGonagall tried to regain the students' attentions, Harry leaned over to Hermione, who was sitting next to him. 'How long have I been asleep?' he whispered. 

Hermione raised an eyebrow. 'Only most of the lesson,' she said. 'Are you feeling all right? You look a little pale,' she added with concern.

'Yeah, I'm fine,' Harry said, 'I'm just a bit tired.' Truth be told, he was feeling a bit nauseous, but he was sure it was nothing, and he certainly didn't want to get sent to the Hospital Wing over it; Madame Pomfrey already thought he was "delicate."

By the time the last lesson of the day was over, Harry could barely keep his eyes open he was so tired. He and Ron and Hermione made their way out to the lake. They found a warm patch of grass under a shady tree and sat down. After a few minutes, Harry lay down and fell asleep. 'He's sleeping outside!' Ron said to Hermione with a chuckle.

'Blimey, he must be tired,' Hermione answered, smiling. She reached out and prodded his shoulder with her finger. 'Harry, wake up,' she said. Harry didn't budge. 'Is he okay?' she asked Ron.

'I dunno, I reckon so,' Ron replied, 'he did have quite a nasty nightmare last night. Perhaps that's why he's so tired.'

Ron and Hermione sat there until suppertime, talking quietly and letting their friend sleep beneath the warm September sun. As the sun began to sink below the thick foliage of the Forbidden Forest, they decided it was time to wake their slumbering friend. Ron lifted Harry's arm from his face. 'Harry, time to wake up,' he said. 

'Hmm?' Harry said, his eyes still closed.

'Time to wake up for supper,' Ron said.

Harry groaned and got up, rubbing his eyes, and they all went to supper. The Great Hall was packed with students, most talking loudly and thoroughly enjoying themselves. All the noise was making Harry's head pound, and he was still feeling a bit ill since Transfiguration. He barely picked at his food, piling his roast potatoes and Yorkshire pudding to make odd shapes. He noticed the worried glances his friends kept throwing at him. 'What?' he asked.

'All right, Harry?'

'I'm fine, just not very hungry,' he answered.

'What do you mean you're not hungry, you didn't eat lunch either! Usually you eat loads!' 

Harry just shrugged and continued piling his potatoes. At a tap on his shoulder, he looked up to find Remus at his shoulder. 'Are you finished with your supper?' he asked jovially, admiring Harry's potato snowman.

'Yeah,' Harry said with a smile, 'what's up?'

'If you're done, Professor Dumbledore would like to see you. Do you mind if I take Harry away for a while, Ron? Hermione?' 

'No, no, that's fine. See you, Harry!' they said. Harry followed Remus from the noisy Great Hall to the welcome quiet of the corridors beyond. The pounding lessened greatly, and by the time they reached the Gargoyle, it was barely noticeable. 'Biscuit,' (_A/N_ _cookie for Americans_) Lupin said, and the Gargoyle slid from its place at the wall.

Harry and Professor Lupin entered Dumbledore's office, and Harry was shocked to see Sirius there as well. 'Sirius!' he said, running up to greet his Godfather. 

'Hiya Harry,' Sirius said. 'How are you,' he asked seriously, 'really.' 

'Okay, I guess,' he asked, unable to look Sirius full in the eyes. Sirius clasped a hand on his shoulder. 'Are we ready, Professor?' 

Dumbledore chuckled softly. 'Perhaps we ought to tell Harry what is going on here tonight.' He padded over to the chair behind his desk and took a seat. 'Please, have a seat,' he said, gesturing the others to the plush chairs in front of his desk.

'Harry, I told you yesterday about Voldemort, and his powers of Invocation,' Dumbledore began. 

Harry nodded, 'Yes sir.' 

'Well, there is an ancient charm, Vinculum Obscuro, which can be employed to break the bond between you that allows him to affect you in your dreams. You will still have the visions you used to have when he was especially angry, but he will no longer be able to see you at those times,' Dumbledore said. 'I would like to ask your permission to perform the Vinculum Obscuro charm on you.'

Harry nodded. 'That sounds fine to me,' he said. 

The three men got up and formed a triangle around Harry's chair. They trained their wands towards Harry, and rays of coloured light fixed on Harry's scar. Harry felt a light floating sensation, and was barely aware of what was going on outside his head. 

*

'Harry, wake up, it's over,' Sirius said, helping Harry out of his chair. Harry mumbled something unintelligible. Sirius grabbed Harry's arm and guided him to Gryffindor tower. Upon reaching his bed, Harry very nearly collapsed right on the floor, but Sirius caught him and laid him down. He took off Harry's glasses and laid them on the bedside table, then made his way back up to Professor Dumbledore's office. 

'Professor, I think there's something wrong with Harry,' he said.

'Yes, he does seem a bit under the weather of late,' Dumbledore replied.

'Well, d'you reckon you know what it is?'

'Probably nothing a good rest couldn't help. I'm sure he'll be fine once he gets a decent night's sleep,' Dumbledore said.

Sirius nodded. 'You're probably right. G'night, Professor,' he said, shaking hands.

'Good night, Mr Black. I shall keep you informed,' Dumbledore offered. 

'That would be great, thank you,' Sirius said, leaving Dumbledore's office.

~*~

A/N: So sorry about the long wait! It's been a very busy term at school, and I've had very little time to write. Your reviews helped a ton, thank you so much, and keep it up! Hope you enjoyed this bit, hopefully I'll have the next one out soon as well… Ü

   [1]: http://www.fanfiction.net/index.fic?action=directory-authorprofile&userid=57407



	13. A Turn for the Worse

Harry Potter and Gryffindor's Secret  
  
Chapter 13: Not titled  
  
By: Lin-z  
  
A/N: Is anyone still reading this? Just curious. I'm SOO sorry about the long wait everyone! I meant to have this out a lot sooner, but I procrastinated. sorry! Anyway, here is the long awaited 13th chapter. Have fun! :)  
  
Thanx to my absolutely wonderful beta reader, ~*Dumbledore's True Love*~ if it weren't for her persistence then this would never be completed.  
  
**  
  
Harry woke with a start, coughing hard. His chest felt as if it were being squeezed mercilessly by some unseen force, burning with each sharp intake of breath.  
  
He buried his head under his pillow in an effort to muffle the sound and not wake his roommates. After nearly a solid minute of coughing hard, the convulsions began to subside. He sat up and waited for the sudden dizziness to pass.  
  
It didn't go away completely, but once he could manage to see without the world spinning utterly out of focus, he made his way to the jug of water beneath the long window across from him.  
  
Twice he nearly fell over but was able to catch his balance just in time. 'What's wrong with me?' he whispered, supporting himself against the window- seat as he let the cool water soothe his burning throat.  
  
When his cup was empty, he set the silver goblet back on the table and headed back to his bed. He lay on his bed, watching the velvet ceiling spin in tight circles as he started to shiver. Pulling the covers tight over himself, he fell into a restless sleep.  
  
**  
  
"Harry, wake up! It's time for class!" Ron said, ripping aside the curtains.  
  
The boys had less than ten minutes until class, and Harry still hadn't shown any signs of waking. Ron looked down to see Harry covered in sweat and tangled tightly in the sheets.  
  
"You okay, mate?" Ron asked, shaking his shoulder a bit in an attempt to rouse him. Harry simply groaned and rolled over again.  
  
Ron laid a hand on his friend's forehead to find it was burning up. Worried, Ron turned and ran up to the hospital wing to fetch Madam Pomfrey.  
  
**  
  
"What have you boys done this time?" The school matron said with a frown as Ron entered the hospital wing, panting from having run the whole way. "You haven't even started classes yet!"  
  
"It's. Harry." he said, leaning against the wall to catch his breath. "He's. really. sick."  
  
"Oh dear," she 'tutted', hastily putting together a bag of supplies. "What's wrong with him now?"  
  
"Well," Ron started, "he's got a horrible fever, and he won't wake up."  
  
"Merciful heavens." the matron mumbled. "Well then, it's off to class with you. I'll go check on Potter. And don't look at me like that, you know you need to go to class!"  
  
Ron grumbled and grudgingly turned to leave the hospital wing.  
  
Madam Pomfrey snapped her bag shut and headed to Gryffindor tower to check on her most frequent patient.  
  
**  
  
"Harry? Can you hear me?" Sirius whispered, gently pressing a cool cloth to Harry's burning forehead.  
  
Madam Pomfrey had sent for him immediately after assessing Harry's situation, knowing that his godfather would be nothing short of outraged had he not been notified. Sirius continued to press the damp cloth against his godson's forehead.  
  
Harry moaned softly, bringing a hand up to rub his head. Sirius lowered the cloth. "How are you feeling?" he asked soothingly.  
  
"Mmmmm..." He groaned, his eyelids flickering open slowly. "Like I'm on fire and a train is running over my head. How're you?"  
  
"Worried," Sirius replied, handing Harry a silver goblet with a silky blue liquid swirling inside. "It's for your fever. It should help with the headache too," he said. He helped Harry sit up and drink it.  
  
"Thanks," Harry said. He lay back down, trying to ignore the nauseous feeling in his stomach. "What's wrong with me?" He asked, eyes closed against the nausea and the pain in his head.  
  
"Madam Pomfrey says it looks like mono," Sirius answered. "Speaking of which, I should probably let you get some rest. You'll need it in order to get better in time for the Quidditch season  
  
"Okay," Harry yawned, sliding back into the sheets. Within seconds he was out cold.  
  
Sirius turned to Madam Pomfrey with a grim expression. "Okay," he said, "Tell me, just how serious is this? It doesn't look to me like some ordinary case of the flu."  
  
The nurse shook her head solemnly. "Yes, I'm afraid mono is a bit more serious than the flu."  
  
"How much more serious?" Sirius probed.  
  
"Mono is a virus that commonly affects Muggles. He'll feel totally drained of energy, and it may take a while for him to get over it, but he will be okay," she stated, then halted. "The thing that intrigues me, however, is how he would have contracted such a disease. Mono is spread via saliva, which is why it's commonly known among Muggles as the "Kissing disease." Has he been, you know..." the nurse trailed off.  
  
"Harry?! No! Of course not - well, not that I know of anyway... He wouldn't..." Sirius glanced at Harry, lying still in the bed, his cheeks bright pink with fever. He moaned slightly and rolled over without waking up.  
  
"So what should I do?" Sirius asked, turning back to Pomfrey.  
  
"Well, he'll be sleeping a lot, and while mono is a common enough disease, you just have to let it run its course. You can visit as often as you like, but there's really nothing you can do for him."  
  
Sirius moved to the bed and took a seat in one of the chairs nearby. He took a moist towel and slowly began cooling Harry's head with it. He looked to the green orb that was monitoring Harry's vital signs, and watched as red dot representing body temperature slid just a bit lower.  
  
**  
  
As the flames surrounding Harry began to subside little by little, he was able to view his surroundings for the first time. A dilapidated chapel sat upon a hill some few meters away, looking like an empty shell of the cozy church it had once been. The place was eerily quiet; the shadows were lengthening as the sun slid lower and lower beyond the mountains. He scanned the area, wondering to himself why he was even there. He heard a soft rustling of branches behind him, and turned to see a small squirrel scurrying up a tree in the forest. Taking a hesitant step forward, he stumbled into something soft. Turning abruptly to face his obstacle, he was met by the all too familiar visage of a tall man with red eyes and a mirthless grin.  
  
He stumbled back a few steps, nearly falling into one of the tall trees behind him.  
  
"What a pleasant surprise," the icy, high-pitched voice of his nemesis drawled, taking a step forward. "The old snake and the young phoenix meet once again..."  
  
Harry stared silently, barely even daring to breathe.  
  
Voldemort stepped forward and laid a finger on Harry's scar. It burned furiously and Harry could barely see through the haze of pain. After a few moments, Voldemort dropped his finger, retreated a few steps, and watched in satisfaction as Death Eaters began to pop into view around them. Harry vaguely recalled the spell that Dumbledore had performed just the last night and wondered how it had failed.  
  
When the circle of Voldemort's minions was complete, he turned to look Harry in the eyes once more. "You're very sick, Harry, and I'll have you know it's no accident."  
  
Harry held his tongue and merely glared at Voldemort, who was giving him a smug look of self-satisfaction.  
  
"This case of 'Mono,'" he said with a smirk, "as Madam Pomfrey has decided to call it, is not merely some virus you happened to catch. It is, however, the result of some tricky wand work on the part of one of my loyal Death Eaters. Medications, for the most part, will be useless against this, and you will continue to suffer and digress until I have what I want."  
  
Harry refused to give Voldemort the satisfaction of a reply. Instead he continued to glare hatefully, waiting for the dark lord to finish. He could put up with being sick; it was better than doing anything to please the hideous snake before him.  
  
"What I want," he hissed, "is Salazar's book. I have located it within Hogwarts. Now it is up to you to bring it to me. Oh yes, and one more thing. If you refuse to obey me, your 'situation' will be fatal."  
  
"Never!" Harry shouted forcefully.  
  
"As you wish." With that, Voldemort laid his thumb to Harry's forehead, once more causing him excruciating pain. The vision began to spin and tilt, slowly fading from view.  
  
  
  
**  
  
Harry's eyes flew open with a start and he was back in his bed in the hospital wing. He could remember a few details from his dream, but most of it was slipping through his fingers as sand through an hourglass. All Harry could remember was something about a book... Harry lay back - the flames were returning.  
  
"What is it, Harry? Are you alright?" Sirius asked mentally kicking himself. Of course the kid wasn't all right! He had a fever of 102 degrees!  
  
Harry, his throat parched and dry, muttered something about a book.  
  
Sirius smiled. "Don't worry about school work kid... You just concentrate on getting better for me, okay?"  
  
"Important!" Harry said clearly, though his eyes were closed once more. Holding firm to the details he could remember, he sat up, ignoring the pounding in his head and the tilting of the room.  
  
"Harry, lay down! What's wrong?"  
  
"It's Voldemort - he's looking for a book - that's all I remember," Harry said, wincing as a sudden stab of pain shot through his head.  
  
"What? A book?" Sirius asked, puzzled.  
  
"Yeah," Harry said, before lying back down and going to sleep.  
  
"Madam Pomfrey, would you mind looking after him for a bit while I go and speak with Professor Dumbledore?" Sirius asked.  
  
"Yes, of course," she answered.  
  
Sirius left the hospital wing and headed upstairs for the headmaster's office. Upon reaching the stone gargoyle, he muttered the password and ascended the revolving staircase.  
  
Sirius rapped twice on the great wooden door and stood back as it swung open.  
  
"Sirius, do come in," Dumbledore said, straitening the stack of papers on top of his desk. "You look troubled."  
  
"I don't think it worked."  
  
"I beg your pardon?" The headmaster answered, slightly confused.  
  
"The Vinculum Obscuro charm. Harry woke up just now saying something about Voldemort and a book. How is this happening!" Sirius replied, beginning to pace back and forth.  
  
"A book you say? Oh dear, this could be worse than I thought."  
  
  
  
~*~ A/N: Next chapter is written and will be posted (barring possible mishap) either the 4th or 5th of January, 2002. ( Have a nice day everyone! ( 


	14. What Book?

Harry Potter and Gryffindor's Secret

Chapter 14: What Book?

By: Lin-z

A/N: Aw, you *are* still reading this!  Okay folks, this chapter is pretty packed – I'd say it's pretty much vital to the rest of the story (which I'm guessing will only be five or six chapters longer – but don't quote me on that because I'm not sure).

Disclaimer- I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters or places. 

Thanx to my ever brilliant beta reader, ~*Dumbledore's True Love*~ 

**

"What do you mean, 'This could be worse than I thought!?' What's going on here!?" Sirius demanded, looking decidedly stricken.

"Perhaps it would be best if you sat down," Dumbledore suggested.  He slid his half-moon shaped spectacles from his nose and rubbed his temples.  Once he had replaced them snugly on his nose, he placed his elbows on the desk and leaned forward.  "Okay, now tell me exactly what's been happening."

"Well," Sirius began, "Yesterday Harry seemed a bit under the weather.  We performed the charm on him last night, and this morning, he woke up ill.  A few moments ago, he woke up from resting saying something about Voldemort and how he was looking for a book.  I'm supposing there was more, but he didn't say anything else about it."

"Was he in any physical pain when he woke?"

"You mean, aside from having a mammoth headache and a 104º fever?  No, he didn't seem like it."  Sirius paused.  "This isn't just mono, is it." He said, more as a statement than a question.

Dumbledore stood and strode to Fawkes' perch, letting the Phoenix perch on his forearm.  "What do you say we go pay Harry a visit so I can have a look at him myself, eh?"  

Sirius followed him out the door and the two of them made their way to the hospital wing.

**

Harry was trapped in a fiery forest, running to escape from the trees that were trying to catch him.  "No!" he shouted, "Go away you stupid trees!"  All of a sudden one of the trees caught up with him and began shaking him.  "Lemme go!"  he said, trying to push the spindly tree away.  Slowly Harry realised that the fire had faded away, and even though he was still hot, he was now back in the hospital wing.  His parents were standing over him, looking concerned.  "Mum? Dad?" he whispered hopefully.

"Harry, it's me, Sirius," Sirius said.  It must be serious; he was asking for his parents. "Madam Pomfrey?" he called.

"Yes?"  she said, wiping her hands on her apron as she made her way back over to Harry's bed.  "Professor Dumbledore, good to see you!  What's wrong, Sirius?"  

"Look at him," Sirius said, turning to Harry, who was looking rather blank and talking to his invisible parents.

"Oh! The poor dear is delirious!" She ran to the other side of the bed, where the green globe hovered.  "105º!  Quick, grab the fever reducing potion!"

Fawkes the Phoenix fluttered from his perch on Dumbledore's arm and landed gracefully at Harry's shoulder.  The brilliant bird lay its head on the boy's shoulder and shortly a few of its pearly silver tears slid to Harry's arm.  Within a matter of minutes, Harry's view cleared and he was able to see the three people that were gathered around him.

"Hi," he smiled. 

"Hey kiddo," Sirius said, putting a hand to Harry's forehead.  "Wow, your fever's down!  How do you feel?"  Sirius took a seat on the side of the mattress.

"Dizzy and tired, but better!" Harry said, sitting up in bed and reaching for the glass of water on his bedside table.  "Why are you guys looking at me like that?"

Sirius smiled.  "You were delirious, let's leave it at that."  

"Can you tell me anything about your dream Harry?" Dumbledore said, gently bringing everyone back to the task at hand.  "Anything at all, even if it seems really insignificant."

For a minute Harry sat there with a frown on his face, concentrating hard.  "I can't remember anything," he said at last.  

"You said it was something about Voldemort and a book, if that helps," Sirius offered.

Harry concentrated hard for a few moments, then abruptly straitened up.  "What was the book you got that charm from last night? You know, the Vinculum Obscuro charm."

"The book of Gryffindor?" Dumbledore said, a grim expression on his wise visage.

"No, but I think the title was similar. Sorry," Harry said, leaning back against the wall.  He could feel the pounding in his head beginning to return. It was vague now, but Harry felt somewhat sure it would escalate soon.

"Thank you very much, Harry.  Sirius, would you stay here for a while please while I go see if I can figure something out?"  Dumbledore stood and asked.

"Gladly," Sirius said, pulling his godson into his lap and sitting back against the headboard.  The headmaster thanked them once more and turned to leave the hospital wing.

Harry yawned and nestled into his godfather's embrace.  The room felt awfully cold. "Can somebody shut the window? There's a draught," (a/n: pronounced draft) he mumbled sleepily.

Sirius felt Harry's forehead. Sure enough, the temperature was on the rise.  He grabbed an extra blanket and wrapped it around Harry, who had begun to shiver slightly.  'Please be alright,' Sirius whispered to himself. 'I couldn't stand to lose you.'  Sirius ran a hand through Harry's hair, playing with the errant black strands.  

**

Harry woke up a few hours later, still in his godfather's loving embrace, in the midst of a coughing fit.  With each cough his lungs and throat burned and ached.  Sirius held up a goblet of potion, which he gratefully accepted, relaxing as the cool liquid soothed the whole way down.  "Thanks," he mumbled when the coughing subsided.

Dumbledore came through the double doors at the far end of the wing and walked towards Harry and Sirius.  "Sirius, if I could speak to you for a moment please, in my office," he said softly.

"I'll be back in a little while, okay kid?" Sirius said.  Harry nodded lightly as the movement caused him pain.  He slid out of his godfather's comforting embrace and snuggled deeper in the sheets.  Sirius rose and followed the headmaster up to his office.

**

"So? Did you find anything out?"  Sirius asked anxiously the moment they were both seated in the headmaster's office.

"Actually yes, but I'm afraid it's not altogether good news.  I think I've figured out what book it is that Voldemort is looking for," he said grimly.

"Uh oh, what is it," Sirius asked.

"You know of the book of Gryffindor.  What you probably didn't know was that Slytherin had a book of his own, into which he put all his dark potions and spells.  For many years he tried to keep it a secret, showing only to his most promising pupils.  Eventually, Gryffindor got wind of what he was doing, and tried to confiscate the book before some of the more dangerous potions were too widespread.  One of the most dangerous, the Nullificus Draught, was supposed to render the recipient devoid of all magical abilities.  In 1092, Gryffindor finally managed to sequester the Book of Slytherin.  He tried to destroy it, but to no avail.  He hid it as best he could, and eventually it faded from memory.  Evidently Voldemort has found out about this book and is searching for it.  For your own safety, I cannot tell you where it is, but my belief is that he thinks Harry knows where it is and is trying to get Harry to tell him where."

"How can he possibly think that *Harry* would know where this book is?!  Harry's only a fifth year!" Sirius said in an outrage.  "And even if he *did* know, he would never tell!"

"Have you seen Harry's animagus form?" Dumbledore enquired.

"Huh? What does that have to do with anything?" 

"Everything.  Have you?"

"I haven't seen it, but he said he turned into a Phoenix.  It's never happened before though has it?" Sirius asked.

"Actually, it has happened once.  Godric Gryffindor himself was a phoenix in his animagus form.  An unregistered animagus, of course," he said with a wink.  "Anyhow, it makes sense that Harry would become a Phoenix as well.  It is the sign of the Heir."

Sirius was awestruck.  His godson? The Heir?  Sirius knew all too well what that meant.  It meant that in some hidden recess of his brain, Harry did indeed know where the Book of Slytherin was hidden, as well as a great deal of other things that Sirius didn't even want to begin to think about.  Sirius was saved from drowning in his thoughts by Dumbledore calling his name.

"Sirius, please," he said.  "I'm almost positive that Voldemort is behind Harry's illness, and if he is, then the reason is probably so that he can get Harry to turn over the book.  That's the bad news.  The good news is that there is a way for us to block what he's doing.  The Vinculum Obscuro charm was too weak to use against heirs, which is why it's not doing its job.  It is my belief however, that once Harry is Initiated into the Order of the Phoenix, he will be able to fight it and eventually throw it off." 

"Once the Initiation takes place, how long until he's able to fight it off successfully?" Sirius asked, relieved.

"It depends.  With Harry, I'd guess a few days until he starts to show improvement, and another few days to a week before he's mostly over it." Dumbledore finished.

"And how soon until we can get him Initiated?"  Sirius asked excitedly.  Knowing that Harry would be able to recover was like having a thousand pound weight removed from his shoulders.  He was barely able to keep from jumping out of his chair and shouting with excitement.

Dumbledore knew well how much self control Sirius was having to use to keep in his seat and smiled at him – how much enthusiasm this man had!  "We simply need to get all the members of the Order here, which could take a couple of days.  The reason we need to Initiate him is so that he can have the combined strength of the whole Order fighting on his side, so they all need to be here."

"Thank you so much, Professor Dumbledore," Sirius said, jumping up to shake his hand.  "I *really* appreciate this!"  

"My pleasure," Dumbledore said, watching as Sirius practically skipped from the office.

**

"Let's go visit Harry now," Hermione said, once classes had ended for the day.  Ron had told her Harry was ill when she had asked him why he was late to Flitwick's class.

"Spot on," Ron replied.  "I wonder if he's doing any better now.  He seemed pretty bad this morning, and Madam Pomfrey wouldn't let me stay to see how he was."

The two of them wound their way through the halls to the hospital wing and knocked on the door.  Madam Pomfrey came to the door a few moments later looking slightly haggard.  "Yes?" she said as she pulled the door open.

"We were, er, wondering if we could see Harry now," Hermione said.

"He's not been overly coherent today, and I'm afraid he's asleep right now," the matron replied.

"Please?! Just for a few minutes, I promise," Ron pleaded.

Madam Pomfrey hesitated.  Harry was asleep at the moment, but as long as they stayed quiet they probably couldn't wake him… there weren't any other patients either on the second day of school… "Okay, I suppose you can come in for a few minutes.  But you need to be quiet, alright?  He's quite ill and he still needs his rest."  She stepped aside and allowed Harry's two closest friends to enter.

They found him in the back of the wing, looking slightly better than he had when Ron had found him earlier that morning.  He was asleep; his cheeks were bright red and his hair was slightly damp, but he was sleeping peacefully.  Ron pulled the curtains closed for privacy and walked to his friend's bed.  He took Harry's hand in his, Hermione on the other side holding his right hand.  "Harry, are you awake?" he asked.

Harry stirred but didn't open his eyes.  "Mm hmm," he mumbled.

"Oh Harry, how are you?" Hermione asked worriedly, squeezing his hand.

Harry tried to open his eyes but found that the light made it rather painful.  "Alive, that's something," he said, cracking half a smile.

"Yeah, I suppose that's a start," Ron agreed with a grin.  "Can we get you anything?"

"Water would be nice," Harry said, trying to hoist himself into a sitting position and still not opening his eyes.  "And could you turn down the lights?  It's so bright in here!"

Hermione handed Harry the goblet of water on his bedside table.  "Thanks," he said.

They heard the curtain slide open and turned around to see Sirius pulling it back.

"Hi Sirius," Hermione and Ron said.  "We just came to see how Harry was.  We can leave now if you need us to," Hermione added.

"I'm sorry, it's just that I have something private to tell Harry.  Otherwise I'd let you stay," Sirius said.  "Thanks for coming to visit him!"

"Yeah, thanks," Harry added as his friends left.

"Harry, I've got some good news and some bad news," Sirius began.  He proceeded to tell him everything that Dumbledore had said.  By the time he had finished, Harry was having to struggle to stay awake.  

"So the order is coming in a few days?" he asked tiredly.

"Yep," Sirius said happily.  "And then it's all up to you." 

"Wonderful," Harry said, finally falling back on the covers and back to sleep.

**

A/N: I really wish I could reply to every one of your amazing reviews, but I'd probably get in trouble with ff.n for doing so (there've been over a hundred since I posted the last chapter!).  Just know that I really appreciate each and every one! =)  If you have a question that you want answered, leave an e-mail address in your review or e-mail me and I'll answer if I can.   


	15. The Order

Harry Potter and Gryffindor's Secret  
  
Chapter 15: The Order  
  
By: Lin-z  
  
  
  
A/N: I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed chapter fourteen! I love getting reviews! Also, special thanks goes to Dumbledore's True Love and Lily Evans for betaing this for me – they did a pretty good job, huh! Now on with the story…  
  
*  
  
"Quiet down, students!" Professor McGonagall yelled over the din of the Great Hall at breakfast the next morning. "Professor Dumbledore has got an announcement to make." She took her seat at the teachers' table and watched on as Dumbledore stood from his seat.  
  
"Students," he began, once they had quieted down enough to be heard over, "we will be having some guests in the castle over the next few days. They may be joining your tables at mealtimes, and I expect that you will treat them with the hospitality and respect that they deserve. Any disrespectfulness will not be tolerated. Thank you, that is all."  
  
Immediately the noise level in the room shot up. Shouts of "Guests?" and "Wonder who!" could be heard from every table. "Who do you think they are?" Dean asked Ron.  
  
"Dunno. Reckon they're from the Ministry though, eh?" answered Ron. "Who else would it be?"  
  
Seamus nodded. "Yeah, I reckon you're right Ron, probably stuffy old ministry officials just checking up on the place. Boring!"  
  
The bell rang then, signaling the end of breakfast. The students said their good-byes, and hurried off to their classes, already forgetting the visitors.  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
"How's he doing?" Arabella asked gently as she approached Sirius, who was keeping up his vigil at Harry's bedside.  
  
Sirius turned around to face her and Arabella could see how weary he looked. "Not too well, I think. The sooner we can get this done, the better." He answered, turning back around to face Harry. "Who are we waiting for?"  
  
"I think only Fletcher," she began. "He should be here tomorrow morning; he was abroad with some important business to attend to." She put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "He'll be okay, Sirius. He's made of tougher stuff than you think."  
  
"Yeah." Sirius mumbled, checking the glowing sphere at Harry's bedside once more, in vain hopes that the temperature had dropped. "I just don't see why everything has to happen to him, though. He's only a fifteen-year-old kid, for heaven's sake! He's only just had his first real birthday party!" Sirius ranted.  
  
Arabella took a seat next to him and Sirius turned to look at her. "He was meant to be more than that and we all know it. All you can do is be there for him, and help him when times get too tough for him on his own. And you're doing just that. Harry is so fortunate to have you as a godfather, and I'm sure he knows that."  
  
Sirius lowered his head to hide his reddening face. "Thanks, Arabella. That means a lot to me." he said.  
  
Harry stirred in bed, mumbling for his mummy. Sirius took Harry's hand in his and held it until he calmed down. "It'll be okay, kid. Be strong."  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
When Harry next awoke it was with the most lucid thoughts he had been capable of for quite some time. He lay there with his eyes closed, head pounding. Slowly he tried to open his eyes. "Can someone turn the lights off?" he asked.  
  
"Harry! You're awake!" Sirius declared happily as he jumped from his seat and blew out the candles. Soft beams of moonlight filtered in through the gauze curtains, scattering across the downy blanket. Sirius resumed his seat in the chair at Harry's bedside, grabbing Harry's hand in his and placing it under his chin. "How are you doing?" he asked softly.  
  
Harry favored him with a grin. "Great!" he said. He pushed himself up against the pillows, Sirius aiding him.  
  
"They're all here now, Harry," Sirius said, with his eager grin reaching into the depths of his eyes. At this moment, even though he appeared haggard and worn with worry, Harry could see very few traces of the emaciated convict he had first met. "Now that you're awake, we can get started."  
  
Madame Pomfrey offered to levitate Harry down to the room where the ceremony was to be performed, but Sirius refused, saying he would rather carry him down himself. Sirius gently lifted Harry from the bed, noticing sadly how much weight he had seemed to lose. 'But that'll all change, very soon.' he thought to himself with a smile. He looked down at Harry, who had his eyes shut tight. "You okay kid?" he asked worriedly.  
  
Harry didn't answer, but moaned softly and went limp in his godfather's arms.  
  
"Harry?? Harry! What's wrong? Harry?" Sirius shouted, successfully getting the attention of both Albus Dumbledore and Poppy Pomfrey. They turned around to see Sirius lowering Harry to the ground carefully.  
  
Sirius had never been that desperate for a response, not even when he had Apperated to Godric's Hollow to find the bodies of two of his closest friends. His eyes filled with hot tears as he rubbed Harry's face, desperate for a reply. "C'mon Harry, what's happening to you?"  
  
*  
  
"Now is the time boy," Voldemort said with cool maliciousness. "Your detestable godfather and that willowy fool Dumbledore are going to try to lift the curse. When that happens, you will know the secrets of Gryffindor's order, is that right?" he asked, his sneer turning Harry's already churning insides to frozen slush.  
  
He let none of this show though, as he stared at the very pinnacle of evil. Eyes narrowed in contempt, he remained silent.  
  
"I will not tolerate your insubordinance!" Voldemort shouted, bringing his fist down painfully on the armrest of his throne. "Imperio!"  
  
The fire left Harry's eyes and they went slightly unfocused as the clouds rolled in over his brain. He was blissfully aware of nothing other than the fact that the pain and queasiness that he had been feeling constantly for so long was gone.  
  
A soft voice was willing him to say something. "Apologize," it said, "apologize to your master." Harry thought about it for a moment. He was starting to win out over the influence of the curse, and as his mind defogged, he could feel the pain returning.  
  
"No! No… Voldemort…could NEVER be my master!" he shouted, falling to the floor as the former discomfort returned, worse than ever.  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
The vision slipped away as Harry willed himself back into Sirius' arms. He opened his eyes to see his godfather franticly trying to revive him, tears streaming down his care worn cheeks.  
  
"Oh Harry, you're alright," Sirius said emotionally. He wrapped Harry protectively in his arms and Harry sighed in relief. "Don't you ever do that to me again!" Sirius said, smiling as he wiped the tears from his face. "Now lets hurry up and get this done before anything else happens."  
  
Madame Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore went ahead, Sirius, now with Harry in his arms again, followed quickly. They reached the old Phoenix room, the same one they had used for Order of the Phoenix meetings for generations.  
  
Harry, his head pounding fit to explode and fever reaching new heights, was placed on a reclining chair in the centre of the room. He felt as though he were about to pass out again, and all he could see of the various order members were their pale faces and their dark cloaks barely discernable in the darkened room.  
  
At once a brilliant golden light flooded the room as a Phoenix with sweeping crimson plumage entered the room, landing on Harry's knees. Harry raised his head. "'Lo, Fawkes." he whispered softly.  
  
The Phoenix sang a few sweet notes, and Harry could feel their soothing warmth in his heart. Fawkes spread his glowing plumage and fluttered to a post at Dumbledore's side.  
  
"Let us begin." Dumbledore said, stepping forward.  
  
Mundungus Fletcher, followed shortly by Arabella Figg, Minerva McGonagall, and Severus Snape proceeded solemnly to their places. There were a few faces there that Harry didn't recognize. Sirius gave him an encouraging smile and drew his wand.  
  
Dumbledore stepped forward and placed the tip of his wand on Harry's scar. "Fortis voluntas, captiosus mens, castus anima, lumen cor!"  
  
Each member of the order followed in turn, with Sirius as the last. When Sirius lifted his wand and stepped back, a sudden feeling of warmth spread through Harry's body, almost making him forget his discomfort. The golden light focused into a pillar, descending on Harry gradually until he was totally immersed in its warmth and brightness.  
  
"You, young Gryffindor," it began, "have been chosen for this order because of your many wondrous qualities. You are, as my heir, a perfect Phoenix member. Much is expected of you in this position; there are very perilous duties ahead that only you can perform. But know this: as you are now a member of this order, you will never be expected to go through anything alone. The members are here to strengthen and support you, Harry Potter, and you must allow them to. The power of the Phoenix will always be there to help you if you need it. Never expect too much of yourself, and above all, protect the artifacts with which you are entrusted." The voice was then silent, and Harry felt himself slipping away into nothingness.  
  
*  
  
Voices managed to weave their way through the thick fog that was clouding Harry's head, but as yet, none of them made the least bit of sense, and he was perfectly content to just lay there in the blissful nothingness.  
  
Snippets of conversation managed to meander their way through Harry's weary brain. "…awake…" and "…yet…" The bits he was able to make out still made little to no sense, but at least his brain was processing them as words. His head was sore and his body felt weak; all he wanted to do was fall back to sleep when a hand brushed some hair from his forehead.  
  
A soothing voice, one he recognized as being very familiar, whispered "Harry, are you awake?"  
  
The very act of opening his eyes seemed a chore, but he accomplished it to find his godfather smiling down at him. "Welcome back, Harry. How do you feel?"  
  
Tired, Harry realized with a start. Not sick, not hot, not anything but tired. It was a wonderful feeling, and a drowsy smile pulled at the corners of his mouth as he told Sirius so. "Tired. Just tired."  
  
*  
  
So how was it? Leave me a note and tell me what you think in a review! I'm trying really hard to have chapters out every two weeks or so, so keep checking back. If you'd like, you can leave your e-mail address in a review and I'll e-mail you when the next one is posted. Thanks! 


	16. Slowly but Surely

Harry Potter and Gryffindor's Secret  
  
Chapter 16: Slowly But Surely  
  
By: Lin-z  
  
  
  
For the next couple of days, Harry did little but sleep. He was physically exhausted, and his body was still very weak from being ill for so long. Sirius had finally been convinced to take a shower and get some sleep, to the immense relief of a very disgruntled Madam Pomfrey. Harry was very relieved about this as well, as his godfather had been appearing more and more haggard.  
  
Harry woke up the third morning after his initiation to find sunshine peeking through the sheer white curtains, bathing his piece of the hospital wing in bright warm sunlight. He breathed in deeply, relishing the beautiful morning. Sitting up, he leaned over the bed and looked out the window to the grounds below. The grass was sparkling with dew from the night before, and the golden sunlight was peeking through the trees in the Forbidden Forest, almost making it seem as though the brilliant autumn leaves were aflame in the trees and on the ground below.  
  
Pushing aside the bed sheets, he placed his feet squarely on the floor and tested his ability to stand. Harry's cast had been removed the day before, after Madam Pomfrey had declared that his leg was sufficiently healed; he had been given strict orders, however, to stay off of it for at least a few more days. Finding that he was in fact able to stand, he took a tentative step. It worked! It was a bit wobbly, but it would do. Harry ventured a few slow steps away from the bed, and, finding them successful, decided to go for a walk.  
  
Sirius had spent the night in a guest room at the behest of Professor Dumbledore, and still hadn't come back. Madam Pomfrey obviously hadn't realized that he had woken, or she would have put him back to bed, post haste. He slowly made his way to the hospital wing doors.  
  
By the time he had made it past the doors, his knees were really shaking and he leaned against the wall for support. He slowly slid to a sitting position, breathing heavily from over-exertion. He had closed his eyes and rested his head against his knees when he heard rapid footsteps approaching from somewhere down the hall. He looked up hoping to see Sirius, or even anyone remotely friendly, and groaned to see Professor Snape (aka Harcourt, see ch. 3) sweeping down the hall, his black robes billowing as he took great strides. Harry put his head back down on his knees, hoping to escape his professor's attention, but luck was not on his side.  
  
"What are you doing outside of the hospital wing, Potter," he demanded, coming to a halt and glaring down at Harry. Even with his altered, generally more friendly appearance, he still managed to make his features seem quite domineering. It didn't help that Snape was literally towering over Harry.  
  
Harry looked up cautiously. "Going for a walk?" he said, hoping his professor would simply leave it at that and be on his way.  
  
Snape stood back and folded his arms against his chest. "Right then. Care to demonstrate?"  
  
Harry took a deep breath and steeled himself. He slowly pushed up from the wall, knees shaking again as he placed his weight on them. A smirk formed on Snape's tanned face as Harry demonstrated just how incapable he was of 'going for a walk.'  
  
"Right. It's back to the hospital wing for you Potter," Snape sneered. He held out his arm.  
  
Harry simply stared at it in stunned silence. Was Snape offering to help him? He ventured a timid step to see if he could make it back without his professor's assistance, but when his knees nearly gave out, he figured it best to swallow his pride and accept the offered arm. Harry wondered what could be going on inside his professor's head as they made their way back to Harry's bed.  
  
The moment they were close enough, Harry mumbled "Thank you, Professor," and climbed back into bed. His professor strode away, and in a few moments was replaced by Madam Pomfrey, who was looking very stern.  
  
"Professor Harcourt says you've been out of bed," she said, as she hustled about preparing Harry's daily slew of potions. "Honestly, how can I be expected to take care of you if you refuse to take care of yourself?"  
  
"Sorry Madam Pomfrey," he said, picking at a loose thread on the duvet. He was feeling very worn out from his brief excursion and felt in need of a nap.  
  
She held out a tray containing three bottles of brightly coloured potions. "Drink these and I'll let you get some rest." Harry took the small silver tray, and she hustled off to check on a Hufflepuff third year that had wandered a few moments before with a head cold.  
  
Harry glared at the potions. Madam Pomfrey had made him take these same three potions everyday since his initiation, and they tasted horrible. He picked up the first one, a round glass bottle with a long neck. A bright red potion swirled around inside as he picked it up. He plugged his nose and downed it in one gulp, trying hard not to gag at the aftertaste, which tasted of cranberries and burnt fish. At the sound of Sirius' chuckle, he looked up to find his godfather striding forward.  
  
"Don't taste very good, do they?" he asked kindly, still chuckling lightly as he resumed his seat at Harry's bedside.  
  
Harry smiled sweetly. "Actually, they're delicious. Care to try?" he said, holding out the next one, a tube-like glass full of a slushy purple potion.  
  
"Nice try short stuff," Sirius smiled.  
  
"Your loss," Harry said, swallowing the second brew quickly. This one tasted slightly better, and had much less of an aftertaste. He quickly finished the third one, which was by far the best (almost like the grape flavoured tonic Aunt Petunia had given him to quiet his coughs as a child). Harry placed the tray on his bedside table and leaned back on his pillows.  
  
"Ron and Hermione wanted to see if they could come for a visit," Sirius said once Harry had finished. "Are you up to it? You look a little tired."  
  
Harry was cut off by Madam Pomfrey, who had returned to take Harry's tray. "They most certainly may not! Harry needs his rest, *especially* after that little stunt he pulled this morning!" She hurried off again with the tray, muttering to herself.  
  
"Little stunt?"  
  
"I, er, went for a walk. Snape brought me back."  
  
"*Snape* brought you back? How far did you go?" Sirius asked, surprised to find that his godson had been out of bed but even more shocked to discover that *Snape* had brought him back.  
  
"Just to the hallway. I stopped to take a rest when he found me and made me come back here." Harry was feeling really tired by now, and he could feel his eyelids getting heavy.  
  
Sirius chuckled. "Get some sleep now. We can talk more later."  
  
Harry snuggled back under the covers as Sirius stood up to leave. "Bye Sirius," he mumbled sleepily.  
  
"See you, Harry." Sirius went off to find something to do.  
  
*  
  
"Can we please see him *yet??*" Ron pleaded. He and Hermione were at the doors to the hospital wing trying to convince the nurse to allow them to see Harry. It was after dinner, and they hadn't been allowed in to see him in nearly four days.  
  
"He's resting now, and I can't have you-"  
  
"No I'm not!" Harry shouted from somewhere behind Madam Pomfrey. "Please can they come in?"  
  
"You have thirty minutes," she consented grudgingly.  
  
"Thanks!" all three of them said at once. Hermione and Ron hurried over to Harry's bed the moment she stepped aside.  
  
Harry was sitting up working on an essay for History of Magic. Sirius had brought his books and a list of assignments from Hermione a few hours earlier and Harry had already begun trying to catch up. He rolled up the parchment and stuck it and his book back on the table with the rest of his assignments.  
  
"How are you two?" Harry asked, smiling brightly.  
  
"Fine," Ron answered. "You'll never guess what happened in Duelling today though!" Ron continued gleefully.  
  
Hermione groaned (although Harry could tell she was barely hiding a smile). "It really wasn't *that* funny, Ron."  
  
"What happened?" Harry asked, curious.  
  
"Two words: bouncing ferret," Ron answered.  
  
"No way!" Harry said, laughing. "What happened??"  
  
"Well," Ron started, "we were learning defence techniques today in Duelling, so we had to practise afterwards on each other. Draco was being a prat as usual, making faces at Hermione and me behind Lupin's back. Well, he got caught, so Lupin made him go to the front to demonstrate proper blocking against Hermione. Try and guess which curse she sent at him," he said.  
  
"You didn't!" Harry laughed.  
  
"I did," Hermione responded. "He *obviously* hadn't been paying attention in class, and he got hit with it, full force." Hermione said, smiling brightly.  
  
"Yeah, even Lupin was laughing! Mind you, he had to set him right shortly after, but it was hilarious while it lasted!"  
  
The trio chatted about anything and everything, laughing one moment and dead serious the next, for hours. Around nine, Harry was starting to get tired, but was too excited about having his friends back around to give in to the desire to sleep. Madam Pomfrey, with her incredible ability to sense these sorts of things, came in to shoo them out.  
  
"Now children, you've had nearly two and a half hours. Mr. Potter needs his rest, and you two certainly have homework to attend to."  
  
After a chorus of thank yous and goodnights, Ron and Hermione headed back to their common room, and Harry got ready for bed.  
  
*  
  
"Finished yet?" Sirius asked as he approached. Harry was putting the finishing touches on an essay Professor McGonagall had assigned him. His godfather had only brought his assignments in a couple of days ago, and already he had finished a great deal of his missed coursework.  
  
"Yeah," Harry answered, carefully rolling it up and tying it with a small red ribbon.  
  
"Great! How would you like to go for a walk then?"  
  
"I'd love to!" Harry agreed, excited at the prospect of finally being *allowed* to get out of bed. He swung his legs over the edge, and slipped his house shoes on. "Where are we going?"  
  
"Well, it's a lovely day outside, d'you fancy going out?"  
  
Harry definitely did, and the two of them slowly made their way towards the front doors.  
  
By the time they reached their destination, Harry was completely exhausted. He was leaning on Sirius and short of breath, but he was just happy to be outside. They found a spot on the front steps and sat down, the forbidden forest and main gates of Hogwarts spread out before them in an amazing panorama. The autumn breeze fluttered gently by, ruffling their hair and causing the fallen leaves to swirl gently.  
  
Sirius put an arm around Harry, drawing him closer and allowing him to rest comfortably. The walk had taken a lot out of him, and for a while he simply lay there, enjoying the feeling of having a loving parent of his own.  
  
"Thank you," Harry mumbled.  
  
"For what?" Sirius asked, staring out into the trees and absently playing with Harry's hair.  
  
"For everything," Harry sighed. "For taking me from the Dursleys and giving me the best summer of my life; for staying by me when I was sick; for being here now…" he trailed off.  
  
"You're welcome, Harry. You know I'd do anything for you," he said, after a moment. He looked down to discover that Harry was now sleeping peacefully in his lap. "Anything," he said again, staring out into the twilight.  
  
  
  
A/N: Thanks for sticking with me through yet another chapter! Ü I know this isn't quite as action packed as my chapters have been in the past, but I thought that perhaps our poor characters needed a bit of a break. If you have any questions or suggestions for future chapters, ask, and I'll reply in a Q&A at the end of each chapter (Thanks goes to P.A.R. for the idea – hope she doesn't mind my borrowing it!) Again, if you want to be added to the mailing list, leave a way for me to reach you in your review.  
  
Here are answers to questions from the last chapter (as of 2/5/02):  
  
Liquid Metal – I'm actually not sure *how* many chapters are forthcoming. At the end of this chapter, we're about a month into the school year (October something).  
  
Summersun – yep, Harry's all better now.  
  
Angel – When Sirius refers to the gang as 'Kids,' it's not because he's treating them like kids – it's merely an affectionate way to get around saying "hey guys" all the time.  
  
Dumbledore's True Love – thanks for the bunny! Ü I'm honored, and so you get today's gold star (*) ::sticks it on Dumbledore's True Love's forehead:: There!  
  
(I'll post this again with beta'd revisions once it's mailed back – sorry for the errors!)  
  
Disclaimer: I'm not J.K. Rowling in disguise. I don't own these characters!  
  
You've read, now REVIEW! Ü 


	17. In Which Something Major Happens

Harry Potter and Gryffindor's Secret  
  
Ch. 17: In Which Something Major Happens  
  
By: Lin-z  
  
  
  
"You coming to practice tonight mate?" George asked, sliding into the seat next to Harry at breakfast.  
  
"Of course I am!" Harry responded enthusiastically. Madam Pomfrey had released him from the hospital wing the day before, and, after over two weeks in the hospital; he had been only too ready.  
  
"Wicked!" Fred said. "We have to figure out how we're going to fill the vacancies on the team, and now that Wood's gone, we need a new captain too. Tonight at 7 alright?"  
  
"I'll be there!" Fred and George smiled, clapped him on the back, and went to go 'talk business' with their friend Lee.  
  
The windows snapped open, and the Great Hall was suddenly flooded in a barrage of owls of all shapes and sizes. A brown post owl dropped the "Daily Prophet" on Hermione's plate. A midnight black owl swooped in, soaring gracefully through the air. Harry and his friends stared as the owl sped past the Slytherin table to drop a sleek black envelope right in front of Harry.  
  
"What is that?" Hermione asked.  
  
"A letter for Harry," Ron answered sarcastically with a smirk.  
  
Hermione ignored him. "Who's it from?"  
  
Harry picked it up and inspected it. There was no name or address, but as he turned it over in his hands, something caught his eye that sent his stomach into painful tumbles. Stamped in bright green sealing wax was the Dark Mark.  
  
"So who's it…" Ron trailed off as he leaned over and caught a glimpse of the seal. He paled instantly, which caught the attention of Hermione, who was sitting facing them on the other side of the table. Worried, she plucked the envelope from Harry's hands.  
  
"Oh no," she whispered. "Harry, you should see Dumbledore about this… It could be bad," she said, slowly handing it back.  
  
Harry took it back and stared at it, brows furrowed in determination. "No," he shook his head gently. "I need to open it." With that, he stood and left the Great Hall.  
  
He strode quickly from the hall, willing his friends to leave him alone. He didn't know precisely where he was going, but rather felt a sort of pull that told him where he needed to go. He climbed staircase after staircase, some up, some leading back down, until he came to a darkened corridor on the fifth floor.  
  
The portraits on this corridor were dark and sleepy; they barely noticed the boy as he strode down the deserted hallway. He felt compelled to stop in front of a painting towards the end of the corridor. This one contained an older man of about forty-five years, tall with long black hair pulled back in a scarlet band. The blue eyes were bright, and it looked as though this was the one portrait that someone had actually been bothered to care for. He was dressed in ancient battle regalia, with a silver sword in one hand and in the other, a shield with a rampant lion.  
  
The man smiled when Harry came to a stop in front of his portrait. "Hello, young Mr. Potter," he said. The man had a cheerful smile, lighting his visage and transforming it to an almost entirely different person.  
  
Barely surprised at being recognized, Harry responded with a soft "Hello, Sir."  
  
"I am called Sir Rutherford of the Hollows, and I have been awaiting you," the man said, swinging forward to grant Harry entrance.  
  
"Thank you, Sir Rutherford," Harry said, stepping into the room behind the painting.  
  
The chamber, though large and spacious, had a comforting feel about it. The room was circular, shaped in much the same manner as the Gryffindor common room. A fire sparked and its tendrils of vibrant flames reached up, tickling the flue. A portrait of a man hung in an antique golden frame above the fireplace. The man looked strikingly familiar to Harry, though he couldn't pinpoint just why. He had long black hair, green eyes that held a hidden fire, and was dressed as some sort of warrior from long ago.  
  
The letter in Harry's hand grew warm, reminding Harry of the reason he was there in the first place, and the butterflies in his stomach returned with a vengeance. With a deal of trepidation, he made his way to one of the high-backed crimson chairs situated in front of the fireplace. Slowly, he broke the waxen seal and began to unfold the parchment within.  
  
Immediately after he pulled it open, the quiet stillness was wrenched by the sound of pained screams. They reverberated around the walls, invading Harry's mind and sending his stomach to the floor as he recognized the voice – it was Ginny. Voldemort had Ginny.  
  
Ginny's cries continued, joined shortly by an icy cold cackle that Harry recognized at once.  
  
"Avada Kedavra," Voldemort said. The screams stopped, and the room was suddenly filled with a silence almost more deafening than the screams had been. "You really should keep better track of your friends Mr. Potter… Miss Weasley would still be alive today if she thought someone cared for her."  
  
Stifling stillness descended upon the room once more, and Harry was barely aware of the warm tears sliding down his cheek. Another friend was gone because of him; his best friend's sister was dead.  
  
Ginny was dead.  
  
The parchment burst into flames, burning quickly till there was nothing left but a small pile of soot in his hand. Dazedly, he got up and threw the ashes into the flames. He couldn't get his mind away from Ginny's screams, and Voldemort's menacing voice declaring that she could be alive today if someone had cared enough for her. She could be eating breakfast with her brothers, but instead… Harry didn't even want to think of it.  
  
Anguished thoughts of Ron began to fill his head – how was he going to break this to his best friend of four years? Some best friend he was- because of him, Ron's sister was dead. A decidedly sick feeling filled his stomach as he thought of how to break the news.  
  
After a few minutes of tormented indecision, he decided the only thing to do now was to tell the Headmaster. Deliberately he got up from the chair, wavering as an unbelievable pain hit him fiercely in the stomach. He found himself hoping he wasn't getting sick again as he headed for Professor Dumbledore's office.  
  
He ignored Sir Rutherford's inquiries and didn't stop until he had reached the stone gargoyle that guarded the headmaster's office. He realized he didn't know the password, and stood there for a moment staring at it, willing it to open. A gentle tap on his shoulder startled him from his concentration, and he spun around to face Professor Dumbledore, recently returned from breakfast.  
  
The headmaster's smile faded quickly as he noticed Harry's puffy red eyes. "Would you like to speak in my office?" he said gently.  
  
Harry nodded despondently and followed the headmaster up the spiraling staircase to his office.  
  
Dumbledore sat behind his creatively cluttered desk and pushed aside some of the parchments he had been working with the previous day. He silently beckoned Harry to take a seat, and folded his hands, politely waiting until the boy was ready to begin on his own.  
  
"I…" Harry began, twisting his hands in his lap, staring at an ornate swirl on the rug. "I got an owl from Voldemort today," he paused. "I- it's Ginny… she's," at this point Harry faltered a bit before continuing. "She's… dead, sir." He put his head in on his palms, and Professor Dumbledore could tell from the shaking of his shoulders that Harry was trying diligently not to cry.  
  
Quietly the headmaster rose from his desk and took the chair nearest to Harry, putting a comforting arm about the boy's shoulder.  
  
"It's my fault," Harry mumbled, almost inaudibly, a few moments later. "He said she would still be alive if she thought someone cared about her." His forehead still rested in his palms, though his shoulders were no longer trembling.  
  
"Harry, look at me please," Dumbledore said, waiting until Harry's head lifted enough that he could see the boy's eyes. Fawkes chirruped softly from his perch in the corner, and Dumbledore took a deep breath before continuing. "Harry, Voldemort has his own agenda. He will do whatever he will do, and I want you to know that whatever Voldemort does is not your fault. Do you understand?"  
  
Harry nodded slightly to show that he understood. "I just feel like none of this would have happened if I had just died with my parents that Halloween night. I've done nothing but put my friends in danger since I came here…"  
  
Dumbledore sighed as he stood. "Harry, your life will be full of 'what- ifs.' God only knows mine is. But what you need to understand is that what has happened has happened, and we must do all that we may do to assure that the future will be better. Now, imagine for a moment that you had died that night. Voldemort would have lived, and he would have gone on to kill many others. He would have continued to rise in power, and who knows what life would be like for those who survived. Granted, he has been restored, but there were thirteen amazing years in which the Wizarding world was able to live in peace, without threat of Voldemort. Think of all the lives that have been saved, Harry! Not to mention the friends you've made…" Dumbledore paused as he went to kneel in front of Harry, looking him straight in the eyes. "Harry, I want you to know that you have made a difference, and that Miss Weasley's death is in no way your fault."  
  
Harry turned away from the professor's gaze and nodded. "How am I going to tell the Weasleys? They're all going to hate me now…"  
  
"Don't worry about that," Dumbledore said, "I'll see to it that they're told. Now, would you like to go to class today? Or would you rather I called Sirius over? Nevermind, silly question really," Dumbledore said to himself as he made his way to the fireplace. He tossed a bit of purple powder into the flames and shouted for 'Sirius Black.' The fire returned to normal, and the two of them waited until Sirius came flying in, out of breath.  
  
"Is something wrong, headmaster? Is Harry alright??"  
  
"He's fine, Mr. Black, but I think it would be beneficial if you could take him out for a bit."  
  
"Certainly," Sirius answered as he stepped further into the room. He came around to where Harry was sitting, staring off into space. He gently rested his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Care to go for a walk?" Harry nodded and stood up, and Sirius escorted him from Dumbledore's office.  
  
Once they had left, Professor Dumbledore retired to his desk, taking up a quill and a piece of parchment. Slowly he penned a note requesting the presence of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley in his office as soon as possible…  
  
  
  
So there it is, another chapter. Yes, it's short, and yes, it was a long time in coming, but hey, at least you've got it, right? Let me know what you think. Thanks to Essence of Magic for her excellent task-driving skills… :) 


	18. The Show Must Go On

Harry Potter and Gryffindor's Secret  
  
Chapter 18: The Show Must Go On  
  
By: Lin-z  
  
A/N: It may be beneficial to skim the previous chapters, in case you've forgot what's going on. Oh, and by way of disclaimers, I don't own anything except the storyline.  
  
  
  
Two weeks following Ginny's death, and there was still an uneasy silence between Ron and Harry. Ron had told Harry at Ginny's funeral that he didn't blame Harry in the slightest, although Harry still held himself accountable for what had happened. Both boys seemed uncharacteristically sullen. Hermione, who hated seeing her friends this way, decided to do something about it.  
  
"Harry?" Hermione asked, taking a seat next to him on the couch in front of the fire in the common room.  
  
Harry's head shook as he snapped out of his reverie. "Yeah?"  
  
"Are you alright? You haven't really been yourself lately," she said.  
  
Harry sighed and looked up towards the ceiling. "Did I ever tell you what was in the note I got the day Ginny died?"  
  
Hermione thought for a second. She remembered the note arriving, but in the flurry of events that took place afterwards, had almost forgotten about it. "No," she answered.  
  
"It was from Voldemort," Harry answered, now staring back into the flickering light.  
  
Hermione had guessed as much-the seal was, after all, the dark mark. She waited for a moment for Harry to continue. When he didn't, she quietly asked, "What did he say?"  
  
For a moment, Harry said nothing. Then, "It was almost like a howler, only at first, he didn't say anything. All I could here were Ginny's screams. Then I heard him say 'Avada Kedavra,' and that she'd still be alive if she thought somebody cared about her," he paused. "I just can't help but think that if I had been there for her, Voldemort wouldn't have been able to get to her." He leaned forward with his head in his hands.  
  
Hermione absently ran a hand along his back as she thought for a bit. "Harry, I'm sure I'm speaking for everyone when I say that I know you are in no way responsible for Ginny's death. There was no way you or any of the rest of us could have known this was going to happen, and you can't go around blaming yourself for something that isn't your fault." She stopped, and then had an idea. "Harry, have you told any of this to Ron?"  
  
"No," he answered. "Every time I try to tell him I. I just can't."  
  
"Would it be easier if the three of us went somewhere private and you could tell him there?" She offered.  
  
Harry looked up at Hermione and gave her the closest resemblance to a smile she had seen in a while. "That would be good."  
  
Hermione ran up to the boy's dorms and softly rapped on the door. Ron had been in there doing homework most of the afternoon. "Come in," Ron said, looking up as Hermione entered.  
  
"How's your homework coming along?" She asked, walking in and sitting on the edge of his bed.  
  
"Slow," he answered. "I can't seem to concentrate."  
  
"Would you like to go for a walk with Harry and me?" She asked.  
  
"Yeah, that would be good," Ron said, shutting his book and throwing all his homework stuff back into his book bag.  
  
Harry met them at the base of the stairs, and the three of them left the tower together. They walked aimlessly for a bit, nobody saying much of anything. Harry had unknowingly been guiding the small group towards the room he had read Voldemort's letter in a fortnight before.  
  
"Ah, I see you've returned. And you've brought company!" Harry stopped when he heard one of the portraits shout out. He hadn't noticed, but they had wandered all the way to the portrait of Sir Rutherford.  
  
"Harry, who's this?" Ron asked quietly.  
  
"I am Sir Rutherford of the Hollows, at your service," the man in the portrait answered.  
  
"Might we go inside?" Harry asked. Sir Rutherford swung forward, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione stepped inside.  
  
The three of them took seats around the fire (which had roared to life the moment the portrait swung open), and Harry proceeded to tell Ron exactly what he had told Hermione earlier that afternoon.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Ron," Harry said.  
  
"And you honestly believe it's your fault?" Ron asked. "C'mere," he said, standing up.  
  
Harry stood, and Ron enveloped him in a brotherly hug. "We all miss her," Ron said as they broke apart, "But it's not your fault, and I can hardly believe you were daft enough to suppose it was." He smiled, and Harry couldn't help but smile back.  
  
"So what's with the room?" asked Ron, trying to lighten the mood.  
  
"I dunno," Harry replied. "I was walking along the corridor after I got that letter, and it just sort of appeared."  
  
"Do you know who that is in the portrait above the mantle?" Hermione asked, gaping at the smiling man in the portrait.  
  
"No," Harry and Ron said. "He looks awfully familiar though," Harry added.  
  
The man stood up, and as he did so, Harry saw a flash of silver as his sword shifted. "I know that sword though!" He exclaimed. "It's the one that came out of the Sorting Hat our second year!"  
  
"Sir Godric Gryffindor," the man in the portrait supplied, smiling. "Welcome to my quarters."  
  
"Oh!" Hermione said, looking at her watch. "We're late for supper, we'd better go." The three of them left, promising to return later. Harry was especially anxious to explore Gryffindor's quarters. Just before they left, Harry was sure he saw a door that hadn't been there before, and his curiosity was peaked.  
  
"Later," he said to himself, taking one last glance at the door before running after his friends.  
  
~*~  
  
I know it's short, and I know it's a year in coming, but at least it's finally here! This is kind of a transition chapter so I can get into the 'beef' of the story. Now *that* is what I like to call writer's block. Talk about a giant brain fart. Anyway, this chapter is dedicated to all you readers out there who kept on encouraging me to keep this story going. No school until the middle of June, so I'll try and keep on with regular updates from here on out. You guys are awesome! Now review, and let me know how you liked it! 


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